Thank you so much for the incredible reviews! For those of you who happened to see the little exchange I had with the troll, I sincerely apologize for that. Constructive criticism is one thing, and I can totally take it, (I feel it helps me become a better author) but this was downright nasty and unnecessary. Trolls are like Gremlins, right?( i.e., don't feed them after midnight.) All future comments from this, or any other, troll, will be deleted without response.
This chapter is brought to you by chile limón Doritos, Shake-a-Day IPA (My favorite beer from my home state. My bestie was kind enough to ship a few six packs to me as an early Christmas present!) and pretty much every song that Keith Urban has ever sung. I apologize in advance...
To the reviewer who pointed out that it was difficult to understand what Siobhan was saying, I apologize. I have reuploaded this chapter with subtitles for easier reading.
Watching as Amy walks out the door, and out of his life for good, Sheldon takes a few moments to compose himself, noisily blowing his nose into his ever-present red handkerchief before using the collar of his shirt to wipe the last tears from his eyes. He finishes the last of his tea, which has now gone cold, before taking the garbage to the trash bin. He doesn't feel like going back to his hotel room, but as all of his friends are unjustly Team Amy, he has nowhere to go and nobody to talk to.
When Sheldon was a young boy, he spent many hours watching Cheers with his Meemaw, seeing many examples of patrons spilling their troubles and darkest secrets to the bartender. Glancing at his cell phone, he sees that it is only 9 am. Well, as the song says, it's 5 o'clock somewhere. Asking Siri where the nearest bar is, Sheldon is directed to an old hotel turned Irish Pub. Opening the heavy wooden door, he steps inside to the lobby, which has been tastefully decorated with soccer memorabilia. The maitre 'd station is empty. Spotting a sign saying, "seat yourself," Sheldon accepts the invitation and proceeds to the empty bar, taking a seat at the far right end.
"Waat 'ill it be, Lad?"(What will it be, Sir?) the svelte red-headed bartender drawls in her heavy Irish accent while polishing a pint glass.
"I'll have a long island iced tea with an extra umbrella," Sheldon requests. When in Rome...
"Only pussies draink dohs an' yer sure don't luk loike a pussy ter me. you'll 'av a Guinness is waaat you'll 'av," (Only pussies drink those and you sure don't look like a pussy to me. You'll have a Guinness is what you'll have) the bartender decides as she quickly fills a pint of black liquid from the nearby tap and slides the glass to Sheldon. "Trouble wit yer Lass?" (Trouble with your wife?) she wonders before setting a bowl of peanuts next to Sheldon.
"How'd you know?" Sheldon wonders as he gulps down a fourth of the pint.
"Honey, I'ma bartender. I'm also a volunteer marriage counselor, chef, taxi driver, doctor, and babysitter," she laughs. "Name's Siobhan."
"Sheldon," he responds. "I made the biggest mistake of my life..." he begins as Siobhan grabs a rag and wipes down the bar while thinking, This bloke has women problems? There's still hope for me yet.
"This a bad idea. A horrible idea. A completely idiotic, terrible idea," Amy berates herself as she turns into the parking lot of Greenwood Village and kills the engine of her car. She feels her heart hammering against her ribcage, confirming her gut instinct that she should swallow her pride and go endure the hours of thinly veiled insults about "not being able to keep a man" from her mother. He fucked another woman and it's all my fault. Yeah, no thank you.
Deciding she'll deal with finding a place to stay for the night later, Amy slams the car door shut and winces as she realizes how much force she used. With each step closer to the lobby doors, the full force of her anger towards Sheldon returns. Making her way up the four flights of stairs in record time, Amy blows into 4A like a hurricane and retrieves the box of garbage bags from under the sink, tossing them towards the couch after pulling one out.
After opening the bag, she stands in the middle of the room and spins in a slow circle, attempting to decide where to begin. She spots Sheldon's Justice League comic book laying on the coffee table and decides to start there by ceremoniously tossing it into the trash bag. It takes her just over an hour to collect all of Sheldon's belongings into 17 white garbage bags, which she placed on the left side of the living room. With nothing left to do to distract herself, Amy flops down on the blue couch and soon dozes off into a deep slumber.
"On behalf av al' weemen, oi shud yisser arse roi nigh...," (On behalf of all women, I should kick your ass right now) Siobhan confides as Sheldon wraps up his story. "Do yer love dis Dr. Nowitzki?"
"Absolutely not," Sheldon quickly insists, affronted by the accusation. "How do I show Amy that I am truly remorseful and get back in her good graces?" he wonders.
"You seem loike a gran' guy who jist made sum feckin dense decisions. Normally oi wouldn't say dis but oi tink yer nade ter gie 'er time an' space. Let 'er git over de initial anger. She wants nialas contact. Respect 'er wishes. Eventually, she's gonna start missin' yer an' questionin' if she can forgive yer. Wait for 'er ter make contact witcha. That's yisser openin'. Work on betterin' yerself. Git sum fuckin' counselin' ter figure oyt waaat lead yer ter chucker dis,"Siobhan suggests as she places Sheldon's lunch order, a bowl of Irish stew and two large pieces of Irish soda bread in front of him. (You seem like a good guy who just made some fucking stupid decisions. Normally, I wouldn't say this, but I think you need to give her time and space. Let her get over the initial anger. She wants zero contact. Respect her wishes. Eventually, she's going to start missing you and questions if she can forgive you. Wait for her to make contact with you. That's your opening. Work on bettering yourself. Get some fucking counseling to figure out what lead you to do this.)
"Nuts to that. What else ya got?" Sheldon asks while slathering butter onto his bread.
"Oi can tell yer roi nigh de answers are not at de 'ole av a beer bottle," Siobhan jokes. (I can tell you right now that the answers are not at the bottle of a beer bottle.)
It's dark in the apartment when Amy awakens to the sound of knocking on the door. Groaning as she hears Sheldon calling out, "Amy" after each series, she waits for him to finish his ritualistic knocking routine. She rolls her eyes as Sheldon continues knocking after the third set of three knocks, again calling out her name. She's not sure what possesses her to open the door, but as she does, she's immediately assaulted by the smell of stale alcohol and vomit as a tipsy Sheldon leans against the jamb of the door, which seems to be the only thing keeping him upright.
"What are you doing here?" Amy wonders as she blocks Sheldon's path to the living room.
"I went to an Irish Pub and Siobhan... you'd like Siobhan. I told her how smart you are and how pretty you are and how you made my life better and..."
"Get to the point, Sheldon," Amy snaps, having little patience for his drunken rantings.
"The point... Siobhan said that the best way to get over a breakup is to drink yourself stupid. I've done that and I'm still not over you," Sheldon confesses.
"Sheldon..." Amy sighs as she moves aside and turns on the lights. "I don't think you understand the ramifications of your actions," she points out as she goes to the kitchen to start a strong pot of coffee.
"I understand it perfectly, Amy," Sheldon counters, sounding far soberer than he feels, "Everything I feared when I was a child, I have become. I've taken on the demons of my father, made them my own and, by doing so, I hurt you. I lost you. Meemaw used to tell me that sooner or later, everyone sits down to a banquet of consequences. I don't want to lose you, Amy. Please... we can go to counseling, we can work through this. You know me..."
"No, not anymore. My Sheldon would never do this. I don't know who you are," Amy rebukes as she leans against the island and folds her arms. "Please don't make this any more difficult than it already is, Sheldon. Please, if you ever loved me at all, if you have even a shred of dignity... don't make me regret letting you in here," she pleads in a soft whisper as she fights to hold back tears.
"Okay," Sheldon hesitantly agrees. "What's all that?" he wonders as he points in the general direction of the 17 bags.
"Everything you own," Amy replies matter of factly.
"Everything?" Sheldon questions.
"Your clothes, that stupid Groot mask you wore that one time to sneak up and scare the living daylights out of me, your comic books..." she lists off, failing to notice that with each item listed, Sheldon's face turns a shade redder.
"My comic books? They're going to get bent and no longer be mint condition!" Sheldon whines as he rushes to the bags.
"This is a perfect example of why our relationship was doomed from the beginning. You value everything else above me," Amy fumes as Sheldon quickly rips open a bag and frantically searches to save his beloved comic books, cradling them to his chest.
"THAT is untrue! I like my routine, I enjoy comic books, I feel most comfortable in my spot, but I love you. You are the only non-blood relation who I have ever or will ever love, Amy. That is not something I say flippantly. I love you, Amy Farrah Fowler. You entrusted me with protecting your heart and... I failed you. I will spend the rest of my life regretting the incredibly stupid decision I made to be unfaithful to you. I hope someday, you will be able to forgive me," he whispers as he crosses the room and gently wipes away a tear from Amy's eye.
"I hope so too," Amy sniffles. "I feel that you lusted after Ramona much more intently than you ever did for me," she admits, seeing Sheldon's jaw drop to the floor in shock.
"That is also untrue. I have been battling with myself for months, Amy. Sharing a bed with you has awakened the sexual beast within but I didn't act upon it due to our once-a-year agreement. If... if I had, would you have said yes?" he wonders.
"That..." Amy stutters, quickly looking for any answer other than a resounding yes. "is irrelevant now," she mutters, barely audible to Sheldon as she intently studies the chips in the red nail polish on her toes. "Why are you here?
"You're leaving for Princeton tomorrow and I realized that if I have any chance of saving our relationship..."
"You think you can just knock on the door, drunk as a skunk, smooth talk me, and I'm going to instantly forgive you? I'm not entirely sure if I'm angry or sad or both or neither, but I do know with absolute certainty that our relationship is over. I'm not coming back from Princeton, Sheldon. I have been turning down fellowships right and left because I don't want to be half-way across the world from you, but you are no longer going to factor into any decision I make, professional or otherwise. I've spoken with the super and removed my name from the lease and have arranged to have my belongings placed in storage until I either find a home or donate them to charity. We are done. I don't know how much clearer I need to be about that," Amy fumes.
"Please, Amy... please, I will give you everything you want, I will do anything you ask. Please...let's work through this. Please," Sheldon desperately pleads of her.
"What I want for you to do right now is leave. Leave and never contact me again," she demands, opening the door and ushering him out. "I'm sure Dr. Slutbunny is worried about you."
"This has nothing to do with her," Sheldon argues.
"This has everything to do with her! I bet she was your first call after I kicked you out," Amy theorizes.
"I haven't spoken to her since I ended the affair several days before you found out," Sheldon reassures. "She means nothing to me, Amy."
"Apparently, neither did I," Amy whispers. "You fucked another woman, Sheldon... multiple times. That's not something I can forgive. I love you. This is the most difficult thing I have ever had to do, but you made the decision to stray. Now you must live with the consequences. Please, Sheldon, I am begging you, I need you to leave."
Without another word, Sheldon walks out the door which is immediately slammed in his face as Amy flicks the deadbolt into place. Leaning his head back against the door, it's only seconds later that his heart completely shatters into a billion pieces as he hears the gut-wrenching sobs of his first and only love.