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They’re drunk. Well, a bit tipsy, but drunk enough that silly things make them laugh hysterically . And drunk enough that their usually latent feelings for each other are becoming oblivious.

Jerry looks at Barbara, his heart racing as he sees her walking around the room, just overwhelmed by how beautiful and lovely she is. She’s nothing like Margo; she’s actually kind to him for one thing. She’s kind to everyone. She is a lovely woman. And he’s totally in love with her.

Thinking about Margo makes him feel a bit upset (that’s another thing about being drunk; it makes him emotional), because their relationship is so forced and stale and horrible. He must look miserable, because Barbara comes over and sits beside him.

“Jerry?” she whispers, slurring slightly.

“Yes?” He’s slurring too.

“Are… are you all right?”

She leans against him and Jerry feels his face heat up.

“Not… not really, to be honest,” he says, sighing.

“Why?” Barbara asks, almost upset on his behalf.

“Well… I was thinking about… Margo,” Jerry says, whispering her name.

“Ah,” is all Barbara says.

She knows about his relationship with Margo. She knows about his feelings for her too.

Jerry sighs, tears in his eyes. “She just doesn’t care about me. I’m sick of feeling so useless all the time. And I don’t think she even loves me.”

“You’re not useless, Jerry,” Barbara says. “And someone here loves you.”

And she leans forwards and softly kisses him.

And he knows its wrong (they’re both married, for goodness’ sake), but it’s such a lovely kiss. And he loves her too, so much.

Barbara pulls away and smiles sheepishly. “Sorry.”

Jerry smiles weakly, his eyes still stinging with tears. “Don’t be.”

And even though Tom and Margo are in the other room, they kiss again.