[Knock. Knock. Knock.] "Amy?"
Amy's hand was growing steadily sweatier as she gripped the door knob, firmly holding the handle in place. It took every ounce of her energy not to move in spite of herself, as she knew it was too early to turn the knob.
Patience, girl, Amy thought, breathing in deeply to steady herself. One more set of three…
[Knock. Knock. Knock.] "Amy?"
Amy expired the breath from her lungs with a whoosh. She turned the knob deliberately, opening the door at as normal a pace as her racing heart would allow.
Amy looked up to face the immediate cause of her tachycardia. This man, Sheldon Lee Cooper, who had peaked her curiosity when they met in a coffee shop over half a decade ago. He had won her interest with his intellectual superiority to any other person (save, perhaps, herself), and his claims to be a homo novus (and therefore above all the emotional and physical needs of the lower humans). This man, who seemed everything Amy required in a partner of the mind, as she was initially of similar mindset in her lack of interest in romantic or corporal notions. This man... who had unintentionally but completely stolen her heart over the last five years, starting that very night in the coffee shop, over tepid water...
And then, by seemingly committing to everything else in his life before her... proceeded to draw and quarter that same precious organ, scattering the pieces of Amy's heart to the four furthest corners of the universe...
Sheldon stood before her: well dressed, wearing grey trousers in place of his typical khakis, and a black dress shirt and jacket. A tall and slender man, dark brown hair neatly combed, handsome features… including steel blue eyes that bore straight through her.
Steel blue eyes that made no attempt to hide anything this evening. They spoke openly of his own fears, and his own hopes… fears and hopes to match Amy's own.
For as much as Sheldon claimed to be a homo novus, he too had, over time, fallen prey to his own limbic system. Their intellectual symbiosis was unparalleled; Sheldon matched wits for the first time in his life with a true equal. Initially, each was flummoxed – a quick breakdown of communication led to hot heads and a flare of tempers that required his mother's intervention to bring them back together. Eventually Sheldon and Amy both learned to work together and learned from each other, first about matters of science, later about matters of the heart. Sheldon had fought valiantly against his own emotions initially, eventually losing the war and professing his love for her on the night of Prom. As the psychic had guided him only a year and a half prior to this night, "Everything will fall into place once you commit to her."
What Sheldon had deemed 'malarkey' that Thursday evening, had come to pass after all. He had been ready to make the ultimate commitment on the night of their fifth anniversary... a proposal of marriage... and it had all blown up in his face. Amy had left, not just that night, but left him...
And with that one final blow, Amy had cast Sheldon's heart, forever to burn in the fires of Mount Doom...
"Hello, Amy Farrah Fowler," Sheldon unintentionally repeated from their first meeting in the coffee shop. His smile was small but unforced; Sheldon was trying his utmost to maintain composure and not over-step. Within his brain, Sheldon battled against a tortuous series of waves of circuitous thoughts, all crashing ashore and threatening to pull him out to drown in the ocean.
Within his heart, all Sheldon wanted to do was sweep Amy into his arms, and return to their passionate kisses of the night before.
Sheldon looked down, diving deeply into the face of his beloved. He noticed Amy had given extra thought in preparing herself for this moment, and the effect was beyond anything he could have imagined. Amy's dress was a simple plum knee length A-line with short sleeves and a sweetheart neckline, but without her trademark bulky sweater. It appeared Penny and Bernadette had likely exerted their influence for this evening.
Amy had also allowed her friends to work their magic on her hair: typically flush against the side of her head, instead this evening her brunette tresses fell in fuller waves around her face. Amy never wore more than a modest amount of makeup; this night her eyeshadow matched the shade of her dress, setting her emerald eyes on fire. Sheldon also noted the lip gloss that he hated, as it made her lips quite slippery and challenging to hold onto in a kiss. Yet that shade was beckoning him to take the risk of sliding off the cliff anyway. He recognized immediately that there was no malice toward him in that decision – only Amy's desire to feel as good as possible about herself.
The total effect? Well, Sheldon always thought Amy was beautiful. In his heart, she needed no assistance of any kind to make her more so. Tonight, however… she was a flame, and he an eager moth. Sheldon could barely pull his eyes away from her. For that matter, however, Amy was a willing captive of his stare of undisguised longing.
The force of gravitation between two objects is defined in physics as being directly proportional to the mass of those objects, and inversely proportional to the distance between them. The physical force of gravitational attraction between Sheldon and Amy was infinitesimally small. But as great as that force can be... even that same force between planets and the sun at the very center of every orbit... even gravity itself would have held no candle to the unrelenting emotional forces drawing these two spirits toward one another.
Amy felt her feet move, seemingly under their own power, as she slid effortlessly into Sheldon's outstretched arms. She turned her head part way to the right, and with her left ear, listened to the noticeably rapid heartbeat within Sheldon's chest. Amy sighed softly and smiled knowingly… relishing the knowledge she was the cause of both the cardiac malady… and its ultimate return to normal rate and rhythm, as Sheldon lowered his chin to rest on the top of her head. Sheldon pulled Amy in close, and savored the warmth and softness of her within his grasp.
It was likely the two would have been content to stand together in that doorway to apartment 314 for hours… if they had not been so rudely interrupted by the harsh buzzing of the oven timer. Amy reluctantly pulled back from Sheldon's embrace, and smiled slightly sheepishly as she quietly acknowledged her unusual lapse of manners in this moment.
"Do you want to come in? Dinner is ready."
Sheldon leaned down and kissed Amy gently, before nodding his acceptance of her offer and following her inside the apartment. Sheldon's olfactory senses had already determined what was on the menu, and his salivary glands were running in overdrive. Amy knew this particular meal reminded him of happier days of his youth, and gave him much peace. Peace, she thought wisely, would likely be in short supply for them both before the night was through.
Amy had been as deliberate in readying the dining room table for this evening's meal, as she was in her own appearance. In the midst of the table was warm, fresh-baked French bread, complete with butter nearby, and a trivet ready for the entrée. The place settings were furnished with the beverage of choice… a small goblet of red wine next to a glass of water for Amy, and carafe of milk for Sheldon. And nearby to his glass…
Strawberry Quik. Not the powder; the syrup.
Amy closed the oven door and picked up the casserole dish from where she had placed it atop the stove. She turned in time to see Sheldon's eyes land on the familiar pink bottle. Uh Oh… Amy thought.
"Sheldon, is that OK?" Amy asked, hesitantly. "I still have the canister of powder in the cupboard."
Sheldon motioned for Amy to set the hot dish on the table, momentarily rendered speechless by the caring concern evident in her voice. It appeared he was not alone in his desire that this evening should proceed "just right"…
Amy stalled, ever so briefly, after she set the dish down on the table. Amy was afraid of what she would see in Sheldon's gaze when she looked back upward at him. Sheldon touched Amy's cheek, and she leaned into the both warmth of his palm and its caress of her face. Amy dared to turn her glance in his direction, and what she saw there nearly stole her breath completely away.
Understanding. He knew how she felt.
And Hope… and Love…
Amy gathered herself in the surety of Sheldon's enveloping gaze. Amy innately knew what she needed to contribute to make this relationship, let alone this discussion, a success. What she had always had, ever since the very beginning, when their friendship had turned to something more. What had sustained her through Sheldon's seeming inability to express his own feelings, and during the times of trial… his self-imposed forty-five day railway journey of self-discovery, and more recently, her needing time away to reflect and renew her own spirit.
Faith.
Amy's faith had been the unbreakable cement that kept their bond tight, in spite of all the challenges she and Sheldon had faced over the last five years. For him… for them… Amy could maintain that faith.
"Amy," Sheldon began. "The Strawberry Quik is fine… no, it's better than fine. The syrup was always better than the powder."
Amy's face reflected a long-held confusion, "Then why...?"
Sheldon's gaze shifted upward, as he searched for the right words. He needed her to understand that day so long ago. "It was only that switching to the syrup was a change." Sheldon's eyes finally came to rest back into Amy's own. "And everything in my life seemed to be changing, all at once. I couldn't control the changes that were happening - that was what bothered me then."
Sheldon grasped Amy's mitted hands with his own, and pulled them around him as he drew her in close. He could feel the warmth of the casserole dish in the mitts on the back of his shirt. Sheldon brought his right hand back to its previous position on Amy's face, stroking her cheek gently with his thumb.
"I'm not afraid of change, Amy. Not anymore."
Amy felt her heart's forceful beating in her chest. For Sheldon, even the notion of change had forever been something to be feared and avoided at all costs. Now, she knew, he was ready to change… and the only reason for his paradigm shift was her…
Amy leaned upward on her toes, silently thanking Sheldon with a kiss. The mitts fell from her hands to the floor, and Amy ran her hands up Sheldon's back, reveling in the feel of his taut muscles. Sheldon's hands found their way into Amy's hair, supporting her head from behind and maintaining this physical bond. Amy wanted to express not only gratitude for Sheldon's mental shift, but her undying will to support him through it. Sheldon, for his part, willingly responded to her unspoken espousal. There was nothing they could not accomplish, if they did it together.
When their kiss broke in mutual accord, Sheldon stepped back to hold Amy's chair out for her. She thanked him as she sat gracefully, and Sheldon took his own chair. The meal was held in a mutually comfortable near silence; only the few words necessary to the passing of food and approval of the cook's efforts were shared. Soon enough, the utensils were cleared to the dishwasher and the remainder of the food packed away.
Sheldon and Amy turned at the same time, finding themselves standing across from one another in the kitchen as the dishwasher started. Both knew the moment for a long-overdue discussion was at hand, but neither seemed ready to make the first move toward it.
Amy reached across and took Sheldon's hand in her own. "Let's sit in the living room, OK?"
Sheldon agreed, and stepped aside to allow Amy to pass. He filled the tea kettle from atop the stove, and turned on the burner to heat the water. Amy gave Sheldon the mugs she had already put chamomile tea bags inside, and left the kitchen. Sheldon took the moments waiting for the tea kettle to reach the boil to try to ready himself for the conversation at hand. A watched pot never boils... but this time, it seemed to boil in an instant.
When Sheldon met Amy in the living room, the room lights were out. A pair of candles were lit on the living room table, providing the necessary illumination to navigate about the room. Amy already sat on the far end of the pale tawny brown crushed fabric couch; Sheldon set the mugs on the coffee table and took his place beside and facing her.
And while there was quiet… enough to hear the dishwasher change its cycle… there was no peace in the room, or in either heart.
Sheldon decided to be the one to start. He turned to face the love and his fear inside of himself, and to face Amy. He found all his internal emotional struggle reflected back to him in Amy's own eyes.
"Amy," Sheldon gulped deeply as he dove head first into the murky water that was their relationship. "I told you last night, but I'll tell you again. I love you. I can't be without you. I wanted to tell you all these things back on our anniversary, but somehow everything went wrong and you left. Worse than that… was when you really left me the day of Leonard and Penny's wedding. I don't understand how or why things changed so quickly." Sheldon stopped, fighting against the tears that had started to form.
Amy's heart tore in two within her own body, bleeding outwardly for the love she felt for Sheldon, knowing the pain she had caused him. But he had caused her pain, too, and that too deserved recognition…
"Sheldon," Amy took a deep breath. "I know that you love me. I think I knew even before you told me the night of prom. What I didn't know… is if you were in love with me. If you weren't, after all this time…"
Sheldon's look toward Amy showed his great confusion. Amy reached across and took Sheldon's hands in her own.
"Sheldon, the difference... between loving, and being in love... it's everything. I love you, but I also love all our friends and my family as well. Being "in love" means you're making the complete commitment of yourself to the other person.
I was and am completely in love with you; I wanted to believe you were in love with me. But you've left me so many times, both physically and emotionally. You went on that trip a year ago last summer, without even so much as a goodbye. Earlier this year, you applied to go to Mars without me. I would have spent the rest of my life alone, if you'd had your way."
Sheldon tried to intervene, but Amy put her finger to his lips to stop him. Sheldon took the cue and sat back to listen further to her.
Amy continued. "I know, you changed the application later, but you still had made the decision initially to go without me, and I found out immediately after we had been out shopping for our first co-owned pet, Giuseppe. It reinforced to me what I suspected for a long time: I wasn't your first priority. I wasn't even sure I made the top ten."
Amy sighed. Her voice grew stronger as the weight long born within her lifted from her soul. Each frustration, each word of truth was finally given its due time in the light. "I fell behind seemingly everything else in your life in order of importance. Your career, your path to the Nobel, your Mother and MeeMaw… even behind your friends. Worst of all," Amy looked Sheldon directly in the eyes. He needed to know how much this meant. "On our anniversary, in rank of importance in your life, I finally understood I fell behind a comic book character on a television show. And with that realization, I lost hope."
Sheldon's face fell further with each word, but he was utterly devastated with Amy's admission of her loss of hope. Amy couldn't bear to continue to look at him anymore, as her heart's desire was fighting against her soul's need to be heard. Her heart cried out to take him here, on this couch… kiss him senseless… tell him that it didn't matter and it never mattered and just forget I ever said anything… just don't look at me that way. Please. Amy's heart silently exploded within her, barely able to maintain a normal rhythm.
But Amy's soul was in command. There would be no easy way out this time. This time, Amy… you will be understood, Amy's spirit cried out within her.
The tears flowed. Amy looked downward to the hands that held her fast, watching her own hands shake in spite of Sheldon's firm grip as her tears struck against his skin. "I had given five years of my life to a hope that I finally realized the night of our anniversary would never come to pass. I loved you then, just as I loved you the day we met and I love you today. But I had to love myself as well. I needed time to find out what I really wanted… what I was willing to compromise to, and what I was willing to give up entirely. But mostly, what was too important to relinquish, even an inch."
Sheldon passed Amy's left hand to join her right in his, and held both securely. He reached to the coffee table, and pulled a tissue from the box on the table's side. The tissue appeared quietly underneath her face, and Sheldon surrendered her grasp on Amy's hands to allow her to clear the outward expression of her broken heart and soul.
Amy wiped away the tears, blew her nose loudly, and helped herself to a second tissue. It appeared already it would be a long night.
"You wouldn't leave me be, even for the briefest time, to sort out the hurt within me," Amy started back up again, looking directly at Sheldon once more. "And then you struck at a raw nerve about my advancing age, and the likelihood of me having children. I know the numbers. I know the chances are getting smaller each and every year. Children... our children... that's something I want in the long term; I need you to know that."
Sheldon nodded, both in his understanding, and urging Amy to continue.
"So I broke completely away from you, because I needed that time, and all it seemed you were capable of was wounding me when I was already hurting more than I could take. Our friends thought I needed to see what else was out there, to help me move past the pain of my decision. On their suggestion, I set up a few dates with three other guys, as you know."
Sheldon's heart constricted painfully within his own chest at the thought of Amy romantically involved with any other man. The attack was so sharp and sudden, he could no longer maintain his gaze with Amy. It was Sheldon's turn to allow a tear to escape and begin its devilish course, burning down the side of his cheek.
A soft hand gently brushed the tear aside and away. The pain stopped as the hand cupped his face in its gentle palm, lifting his gaze back to her own.
"But none of them could make me get over you," Amy whispered, both to his ears and to his heart. "You were always there; they were never good enough, never smart enough… never you." Amy smiled sweetly through her own tears. "Thanksgiving, when we went to the aquarium… I remembered why I was with you in the first place. Our games, the wonder of our discussions, our happiness in simply being together… I told you then. I missed that. What I didn't say, and I should have: I missed you. I missed us."
Amy sat back into the cushion. "And that night, I heard the hurt in your voice when you told me you couldn't get back together with me, because it hurt too much to break apart. I needed to respect that, no matter how much I wanted it to be different. So I tried again, calling Dave, but all I could do while he was here was think of you…
… and then you came, seemingly out of nowhere!" Amy's face grew as bright as a supernova. "I couldn't believe you were here, far less what you were saying. Then you kissed me… and if I couldn't trust your words in that moment, I knew I could have faith in your actions."
The brightness in Amy's face faded a little. "Sheldon, I have to know… now that the firestorm of hormones has subsided and your head is leading instead… where do I fit in? I won't settle for being last on your list of priorities anymore. I know I can't always be the first priority – your work, family, and friends have a place, too – but I need to be a priority in your life.
What is it that you want… from me, and for us?" Amy finished, reaching for Sheldon's hands and holding tight.
Everything, Sheldon thought, praying he was successful in steeling away his deepest, most cherished hope.
A/N: Next: There is plenty of blame to go around on both sides of this equation… Blame, yes… but love also.
Amy gets the answer she seeks, but Sheldon is owed his own answers, too. See you for the next chapter!
Thank you, as ever, for your time to read this story, and share your thoughts.