Amy stepped out of the shop that day huddled in a large winter coat that was so puffy she had to waddle around to move anywhere. California at the time was experiencing some very odd whether phenomenon, but that was not what was on her mind as her foot touched the pavement beyond the curb. The snow crunched beneath her, and she leaned forward, until a car sped extremely close to her.
Wind blew a strand of her hair astray, and Amy recoiled back, breathing hard. A man stuck his head out the window, screaming an apology, and swerved all over the slippery lane. She remembered he had a red nose and rosey cheeks, and crazy blue eyes.
That day she stood and watched the car distance itself further from her. She wanted to be sure nobody got hurt, as it was very dangerous outside. After about a minute, it skidded to a stop at the corner, and disappeared after the turn.
With a sigh Amy looked both ways once more, and crossed the road back to her apartment. Her hat blew steadily in the wind and her breath came in clouds with every huff she took.
#
Later that night there was a news broadcast airing as Amy sat on her couch, alone in her apartment. She had a steaming mug of tea in her hands that nearly burned her skin. The throw over her legs, she listened attentively.
Some live footage was shown, in a ditch somewhere Amy knew was familiar. People crowded everywhere, the police blocking some parts off. The lady who was reporting stood a good few feet away, though she could still tell that the car the woman was referring to was the one she'd seen that morning.
Now it was on it's side, and a stream of smoke came from the darkened windows. Flames engulfed the back, and Amy sat still, shocked beyond belief.
Her stomach clenched as she looked over the car once more, completely in ruins. The reporter was giving a list of casualties, and Amy thought of the man she saw sticking his head out the window, screaming helplessly as the car leapt forward.
She grabbed the nearest notebook beside her and began scribbling all the names the lady said.
#
That night Amy sat in front of her laptop for hours, determined to find some sort of information to grant herself closure. She wanted to find out more about the man in the car, what happened and why he'd seemed so out of control. Normally news stories didn't hit her this hard, but Amy was sincerely interested.
Through typing in the first name in google, she found out quite a bit. A man who went by the name Leonard Hofstadter had been in the car as well, the passenger, and worked at a university not far from where she worked. He was highly respected, and over all nothing but positive comments were said.
He looked insanely smart as well. Looking at his black framed glasses and dorky hair cut, Amy felt a small pang in her chest that she'd never gotten to meet this man.
The other man in the car had a lot more information on him than Leonard did. Or maybe that was because Amy did more research on him, because he was the one she'd seen. He was the one she'd been captivated by, worried for his safety.
He had a PhD. Impressive.
He also grew up in Texas. He must have had a dreamy southern accent, Amy thought.
He was tall, the same blue eyes but more vibrant staring back at her in his picture. From what Amy could tell, he didn't like the attention having your picture taken brought on; his expression was blank.
Or maybe he just didn't care, about that or about anything.
Had he killed them on purpose?
Amy went though her computer, digging through information for hours. Somehow she found out this man had never gotten his drivers license, which would explain his inexperience behind the wheel.
Brilliant minds were always lost too soon, and what a shame, as well. Amy though this man was beautiful, would have loved to see him beyond the two seconds she did, hold a decent conversation with him.
The ache in her chest was so big at this loss that she had absolutely nothing to do with. Under his name, a date was printed in small and she broke down then and there, tears spilling on her keyboard and notebook as she copied down the information in her small scribbles.
His funeral was in three days.
She'd have to book a flight to Texas.
Tell his family how she'd known him.
Amy didn't know why she felt so compelled to see this man before he was absolutely gone, but she booked a flight anyway, and collapsed into bed that night with a heavy heart.
#
The difference in weather conditions from California to Texas was so surprising Amy was speechless. An incredible heat wave smacked her around as she exited the air port, and suddenly everything seemed so real.
She was in this other state for the first time, alone, and had no idea where she was going, simply to see this stanger, dead in a casket, and stare at it blankly.
Had she lost her mind?
Amy called down a taxi quickly and made it to her destination without issue. On the way, her nervous glances and the fact that she couldn't stop fiddling made the driver ask if she were on drugs, and she thought maybe then it would be simpler. At least then she'd have an explanation as to why she was there.
There was practically no one in the building when Amy arrived. Two women stood next to each other in the corner, discussing something quietly, but other than that, row upon row of chairs were empty. It didn't even look like the minster was there yet.
Amy stood by the door awkwardly for quite some time. There were pictures hung all over the walls, on the tables and on a large projector at the front of the room. All displayed the same man she'd been researching all night, the reason why she was there.
Simply looking at his face made a single tear stream down her cheek, in this room with two other strangers. She sniffled quietly, and just her luck, both ladies turned to walk towards her.
They consoled her gently, nodding and hugging her. It didn't occur to either of them that they didn't know each other, but were acting as the much needed support Amy was forever grateful for.
When she pulled away, the three women began to talk. Amy asked a million questions about Sheldon, her main goal to find more about him, and learned so much she felt as if she were drowning in facts. The two women, Sheldon's mother and grandmother, were the most considerate people she had ever known, nobody deserved this.
But it had happened anyway.
By the time a few more people began to show up, and Mary and Meemaw left Amy's side, she quietly excused herself to sit at a table by herself. The plastic beneath her was cool on her exposed legs, her dressed ruffling everywhere. She sighed, looking down, and her hair dipped in front of her eyes, effectively hiding her tears.
There was no sound this time, Amy just wept to herself solely. After a few minutes there was nobody at the casket, and she approached it slowly, hesitantly. The world around her seemed to be moving just barely, the air holding it's breath for her to make the next move.
She was careful not to touch the casket or anything near it. She simply stared down into the closed eyes of this man she knew so much yet so little about. Out of the corner of her eye she could see a pale blonde watching her, but she didn't care. More tears slipped from her eyes, and she choked back a cry of pain.
This man caused her more pain than anyone ever had in her life, and he hadn't even done anything directly to her.
As she stood there, studying his lifeless face and committing it to memory, Amy could only think of one thing; what he could of been. Would he have gone on to get a Nobel Prize like it said he wanted online? Would they have ever met? Would she have gotten to hear his voice?
The blonde had somehow gotten near Amy without her noticing. She draped her arms around her shoulder, and Amy jumped. The woman touching her let out a soft breath, and shook her head slowly.
"I have a feeling Sheldon would have liked you." she said. Amy gulped.
"Why?" her voice was nearly a whisper, still entranced by the man before her, stripped of any and all potential to live, and be happy, of all things.
"You went through all this trouble trying to track him down, clearly you're smarter than any of us here. Intelligence turned him on, though he'd never say."
Amy raised a confused eye brow but blushed deeply as the other rested her head on her shoulder.
"You look like someone who would be his soulmate."
"Soulmate?" Amy croaked, a fresh set of tears daring to fall from her eyes.
"He needed someone like you in his life. It's too bad it can never be, now."
Both were silent as they moved away from Sheldon and sat at the table closest to the alter. Amy asked her if she knew the other man in the car, and she nodded solemnly, a depressed look crossing her features.
"Sheldon was my best friend, but Leonard was my fiance."
"...Oh, I'm sorry for your loss..."
"It's okay," the woman interrupted her. "Maybe Heaven needed more angels."
Amy's heart swelled at the thought of Sheldon, being an angel, possibly watching over her, making sure she was okay. Even though she never got to meet him personally, she would never forget what an amazing man he was.