Amelia padded through the parlor suite with her stocking-clad feet. The door to Sheldon's study was ajar, the yellow glow of light shining out. She tapped lightly on the doorframe, peeking inside.
Sheldon sat hunched over his desk, scribbling furiously, pages of notes scrunched on the floor behind him.
"Who is it?" he called without looking up; a true indication of how involved he was in his work
"It's Amelia," she said softly, not wanting to wake Leonard in the next room.
Sheldon stopped and turned around in his chair, beckoning to her, "come in then."
She walked over to the desk, looking around the room nervously.
"Sheldon...I wanted to talk to you. I know you've been unhappy. You speak to me less and less and you seem so distracted..." she sighed, "I just worry that perhaps it's something I've done."
Sheldon moved to interrupt but Amelia continued, "I know that I'm not a beauty, but I believe I have enough education behind me to be a good wife to you. My family is wealthy enough for you to work less when we're married - there isn't anything that we can't have. Please don't shut me out"
She looked down at her nightgown, twisting the tie of her robe around her hand.
"Amy," Sheldon said softly, using the nickname he had sometimes called her away from polite company
He felt a sudden pang of guilt for being so cold towards her. He had never been the most social man, preferring his own company to that of others; other people were too slow, they didn't understand him and his interests. He was also not, for all his genius, able to understand other people. All of their emotions, their sarcasm, their implied meanings behind things - he found it all exhausting.
Sheldon knew, though, that it was more than just this that stopped him being the fiancé Amelia wanted.
When they had met he had thought that he needed a woman in his life, the same way he might need a new pair of pants. Letters from his mother had long urged him to 'settle down', and even Leonard had made the odd quip about him being on track to become an old bachelor.
Amy had been perfect; she knew to be quiet and rarely bothered him when he was working, she had social standing in the community and would improve his status in the scientific community, and when the time came that he had to start a family she would make an excellent genetic match and mother.
But recently, with the date of their marriage looming closer each day, he felt a niggle of something like regret. He wondered, as he knew shouldn't; what life would be like when he was no longer striving towards a Nobel Prize, when Leonard was no longer assisting him, when it was just he and Amelia in their home having to make conversation and share a bed.
Love did not particularly come into it, but the idea of a life with Amelia made him feel oddly lonely - as though he would live for far too long, as though the days would be never ending and void of meaning.
He hated even more that he was trapped. He had been raised by his mother and his Meemaw, his grandmother, to be a good man, and a good man stood by his word. He had proposed to Amelia Farrah Fowler, and he would live with his decision the best he could.
He reached over and unlocked the drawer of his desk, pulling out a small velvet case. Amelia gasped.
"I had planned on saving this until our engagement gala, once we returned home, but I feel you may gain some reassurance from receiving it now," he explained, opening the box to reveal a stunning necklace.
It had a fine silver chain ending in a large, perfectly cut, circular ruby encased in an ornate silver backing. Amelia put her hand to her mouth.
"Sheldon!" she gasped, "it's breathtaking! Is that a –"
"A ruby, yes," he cut her off, "cut and set by the jeweler responsible for handling the crown jewels. I had bought it a long time ago, but this seems like a fitting opportunity to give it to you"
Amelia wiped a tear from her eye and gingerly held the necklace – its weight extraordinary, it's price unthinkable.
"I am very sorry you feel that I'm not attentive enough, Amelia," he said solemnly, "My work is very consuming, and I'm worried terribly about my mother. I hope this serves to remind you how much I care"
He felt his face twitch a little as he said this, his bodies reaction to a lie, but Amelia's back was turned as she waited for the stone to be placed around her neck and she didn't notice. She paraded herself in front of the mirror, admiring the light bouncing off the stone.
"It's beautiful Sheldon, thank you," she beamed, touching his hand lightly
"I'll keep it in the safe, just in case," he said shortly, "you should really get to bed – it's getting late"
Amelia sobered up, nodding briefly and handing the necklace back.
"Goodnight Sheldon," she said softly, walking back to her room
Sheldon sighed, the necklace in his hand not nearly as heavy as his heart.