25. Cards on the table

Penny went into the matinee that Wednesday with more drive than she imagined possible. As she had told Audrey, all her energy was channeled into the performance. And all the emotions boiling up in her were sublimated to the predictable, reliable trajectory of Maggie's rise and fall. It was strangely relaxing to work up her fear and loathing to the fever pitch necessary for her climactic scene with Quentin/Leo, knowing how it would end and that she would be around to repeat it a few hours later. And she felt that with each step forward she made in understanding herself, and understanding her relationship, her performances got deeper and deeper. Audrey noticed it, and mentioned it as they grabbed a quick dinner between the matinee and the evening performance.

As the two women returned backstage before the evening performance, they walked past DiCaprio. He took a step toward them, obviously wanting to say something to Penny, but constrained. They had barely spoken to each other in weeks, other than on stage. Penny grabbed Audrey to provide a chaperone, and moral support, and approached DiCaprio.

"What is it, Leo?" Penny asked, brusquely.

Leo looked uncharacteristically diffident, almost timid. It was a good look on him. "Penny, I just wanted to say that your performances lately have been amazing. I feel very lucky to be playing opposite you. The energy and emotion you bring to that last scene is incredible. And I feel like it raises my game, too. So, thanks."

"Thank you, Leo, that's very kind. You've been good to work with," Penny said, somewhat formally. And she and Audrey walked away, with Audrey whispering "Way to go, girl," as they left.

Penny was proud of the praise she was getting, and of how good she felt about her performance. But most of her mind was on her desire to try to discuss her insights with Leonard. The opportunity arose at their next session with Dr. Stevens, Thursday morning.

Dr. Stevens began by addressing them. "We've gotten a lot of issues out on the table. So now let's go back to our purpose here. It seems from what you have said, Penny, that you want to focus on attempting to rebuild trust. And especially to address Leonard's feelings about what happened. So I think it would make sense to ask Leonard, again, where you see these sessions going from here."

Leonard thought. "I guess it hasn't changed much for me. I'd still like to understand better why Penny did what she did. Because I still don't."

The doctor was silent, waiting for him to elaborate.

"Like, I keep asking myself, why didn't she tell him that she was married? I mean, I get that they were working together and it was natural to go out for dinner when they were done. I even get why she wasn't wearing her ring, being in character and all that. And I suppose I even get that she probably had more to drink than was wise, and that she was upset about how rehearsals were going. But I just can't understand why she didn't mention that she was married."

Penny was looking down sadly.

Dr. Stevens continued to look at Leonard without speaking.

"To me, I would expect that if Penny went out to dinner with a guy from work, the natural thing would be to make it clear that she was married. Just sneaking in a reference to her husband, or something. That's what people do. So why didn't she? I can't get that out of my mind."

"Why not?" the doctor asked, gently.

Leonard looked uneasily at Penny. "Because if she didn't mention being married, it means that from the start she was thinking about getting involved with him. At least that's the way I see it. Either you make things clear from the start, or you are open to…to whatever."

"I see. Penny, do you have some thoughts on this?"

Penny swallowed hard. "I've been trying to figure out why I did...what I did…in my therapy. And I guess it's still not totally clear. But I have some ideas."

"Go on," said Dr. Stevens, as Leonard watched and listened carefully.

"I guess I have to accept that…" and she stopped. She looked desperately at Leonard. Leonard smiled, encouragingly.

"I…" she whispered, "I'm not sure I can talk about this yet." The room was silent for a minute as Penny wrestled with her fear.

Dr. Stevens broke the silence. "We can come back to this, if you prefer, Penny. Or perhaps we can discuss why you don't feel comfortable talking about it."

Penny sat, thinking. Finally, she looked up, resolved. "No. I want to say it." She looked at Leonard.

"Leonard, this is going to be incredibly hard for me. And the reason is that I'm afraid that that there are some things I'm going to say that could drive you away from me forever."

Leonard shook his head. "Penny, we're here because we're committed to working through these problems and seeing where they lead. I understand that this might be painful, and it might not end up where we'd like, but that's better than my not knowing and spending my nights wondering what I did wrong."

Penny exhaled sharply. "You did nothing wrong, Leonard. This is about me. I know that's a cliché, but it's true. There were things inside me that even I didn't really know about." She was quiet again.

She looked at Dr. Stevens, anguished, uncertain of whether and how to continue.

Dr. Stevens sensed her unease. "Penny, there are no guarantees. I think you just have to look Leonard in the eye and tell him what you're thinking. And if either of you finds this too intense, or uncomfortable, let us know."

Penny did as the doctor suggested. "Leonard, ever since the possibility of this part in After the Fall came up there has been a battle inside me. I wasn't really conscious of it, but Dr. Gallo helped me understand it. You know I came here to try to get into acting. I was young and stupid, and nothing worked out. And over time I came to see that I could be happy without being famous. That you make me happy, and that building a life with you was what I wanted to do."

Leonard nodded along, as she continued. "When we decided to start a family, I loved where we were headed. It was a dream of mine: a great husband, a family, a house. It wasn't the acting dream, but it was a wonderful dream, and it had come true."

"But I got the part in the play. So on the acting front, for the first time, everything was falling into place. And it was wonderful, too. And I couldn't have asked for a better partner in either, starting a family or making big steps in my acting career."

She stopped to get her breath. Leonard was practically holding his, looking at her in anticipation. Penny reached for his hand, and she could feel his palm damp with sweat.

"So I had my family dream, and my Hollywood dream, and they had both come true. But they were so different. It was like I was living a double life. In Westwood I was playing the world's most famous sex symbol, working with wonderful actors and the industry's best producer and director, hoping for success. In Pasadena I was a wife and future mother, thinking about a suburban house with a yard."

"The two sides of my life were in conflict, inside me. I was in conflict. I wanted the excitement of Hollywood, but I wanted the safety and security of our family. I hadn't worked out that conflict in my mind. When the rehearsals started going so badly, I was desperate to belong there, with the successful actors."

She stopped again, and took a very deep breath. "Anyway, that evening what was uppermost in my mind was making it as an actor, showing that I deserved to be there. I was determined to prove that I belonged. From the moment I left the theater with him, I think I was fixated on the idea that I wanted to be in his world, to be part of that world. No matter what." She repeated softly, "No matter what."

Leonard was silent, but Penny could see the pain in his eyes. And the quiet question.

"I know what you're thinking. And I'm ashamed to say that I think you're right. I knew what I was doing, more or less, from the start. I knew that if I had the chance I would end up in bed with…another man. Because that was part of belonging, of being a success in this new world."

"I could say that at the time I was confused, carried away by the setting, swept up in the moment, and that would probably all be true. And that the next morning, when I realized what I'd done, I regretted it immediately. But at the time, I knew what I was doing; I knew it was wrong; and I did it anyway."

She was quiet again. "There's a lot more I could say, but I think that may give you your answer. That's why I didn't tell him I was married. That's why I didn't put my ring back on after the rehearsal. That's why it happened. I betrayed you because I was trying to be part of a different world, to live a different life. I don't know if you can ever get past that, but you deserve the truth."

Leonard looked down and let go of Penny's hand. He rubbed his temples and squeezed his eyes shut. Now it was Penny's turn to hold her breath.

Leonard looked at Dr. Stevens. "Doctor, help me out here. What am I supposed to do with this?"

Dr. Stevens spoke gently. "Well, Leonard, what does what your wife said mean to you?"

Leonard looked up at the ceiling, then spoke. "It means that my wife didn't want to be married to me. Right?" He looked at Penny. "What you're saying is pretty much that at that point you decided you didn't want to be with me, that being with him, and what he represented, was more important to you than me. Than us. Than ten years of history. That's hard to take. That our marriage meant so little to you that you could throw it out because you were having a bad week."

Leonard stopped and looked at Penny. She was staring at him intently, her lips quivering, trying hard to stay composed, despairing of being able to explain herself to his satisfaction. He clearly wanted a reaction from her.

"Leonard, I can't disagree with you. I was terribly, terribly confused. I know that's not a good excuse. Still, I wasn't thinking straight."

"All right," Leonard shrugged. "But what happens if you get confused again? You're going to be around actors all the time now. Is one bad week enough for this to happen again?"

Penny took a deep breath. "Everything you say is true. And I understand your fears. If I thought I was the same person as I was back then, I'd say there was no hope for us. I couldn't ask you to trust me if I was still so uncertain about what I want out of life. But I've spent the last four months thinking about my life, and you, and what I want. I had questions, and doubts, before – doubts I didn't even know about. They came out that night, or that week. But I don't have them anymore. Back then, it was like there were separate universes or…many worlds – isn't that what you guys would say?" Leonard smiled a little and nodded. "And at that point I didn't know which one I wanted to live in." She stopped, as it was clear that Leonard wanted to speak.

"So," he said slowly, "what do you think now, about these two worlds? Which do you want to live in?"

"Oh, Leonard, with you, in yours. In ours. I have no question in my mind. It's so clear to me. The other is exciting, but it's not enough, at least not for me. Our world makes me feel whole, like a full person. You make me feel whole, complete, satisfied with who I am and what I'm doing. I do want to be an actor, and I think I can be a good one. But I want to be one of those actors who has a normal life, with a normal husband, and normal children, and normal friends. I really feel that I can promise you that I will never choose differently again."

"Well, that's a question. How can I be sure? How can I know that this won't happen again?"

Penny looked at him helplessly. "I don't know what I can do other than promise. What else can I do?"

Dr. Stevens started to bring the session to an end, but Penny felt she had to try again.

"Can I say one more thing?" she asked, and the doctor nodded. Penny turned to her husband. "Leonard, I don't want you to get the impression that this was about…that other man, that somehow I was comparing him to you. Because I wasn't; he was just part of the fantasy. Nobody compares to you in my mind, in my heart. You're a wonderful man, and you're the man I want to be with forever. I know that may not sound very convincing, right now. But I've spent the last four months trying to understand myself better. I know I have a lot of problems, problems I didn't really know I had back then. And I understand how much I've damaged our relationship, and hurt you. I'm certain now that you're the one for me. I know I have a long way to go still, but I hope you believe me when I say that I truly, truly want the opportunity to keep trying. I know it's a lot to ask, and I have no right to expect you to believe me, but that's what I want."

The session came to a close quietly, as Dr. Stevens tried to summarize the issues.

The couple walked out of Dr. Stevens' office together. Penny looked fearfully at her husband. "Leonard? Are we finished? Did I just end everything?"

Leonard shrugged. "I don't know. It was hard to hear. But it's better to know the truth than to spend every night agonizing. And I think I do understand it better now."

Penny wanted to hug him, but wasn't sure it was appropriate. She felt silly asking, but…well, what was there to lose? "Leonard, can I hug you? I really need to feel you now."

"Of course, Penny." And they stood by her car in a loose embrace. After a bit Leonard could feel her sobs coming on, and she clung to him more tightly. She calmed down eventually. He wanted to kiss her on the forehead but that hadn't worked out so well before, so instead he simply looked at her, trying to fathom her thought processes.

"It's almost 11. Why don't you leave your car at the apartment, and I'll drive you to Westwood and we can have lunch there before your call?"

She nodded. "That would be wonderful."

They were both quiet in the car to Westwood. Leonard was obviously lost in reflection, and Penny knew very well that she had to let him think things through on his own. Whatever he decided, she knew it would be carefully worked out. She just had to hope that theory and evidence pointed in the direction she desired.

Over lunch, they made small talk. But at last Penny looked into her husband's eyes. She felt driven, almost compelled, to understand what he was feeling. "Leonard, after everything that's happened, why are you so good to me? I don't understand it."

He thought a bit. "Because you're the best person I know. You're honest, and sincere, and caring. You're a good woman. A very good woman."

Penny hesitated. "But how can you say that, after what I did? I mean, I destroyed our marriage just to follow some stupid dream."

Leonard shook his head. "Well, it's not that different from what you said the first time we talked about it. Only then you made it seem like you had somehow lost control. Now it seems you accept that you were aware of what you were doing, and you're taking responsibility for it. That's a step forward, and I respect it. Still, it's hard to take…it means you were seriously considering leaving me – and I didn't have a clue. I don't really know what to do with that. I have to think about it more."

Penny shook her head sadly. "I know. I wanted to give you the truth, at least the truth as I understand it now. And I realize that for you to accept me now would take a huge leap of faith. I understand that, Leonard."

Leonard looked at her seriously. "I know you do, and I appreciate how hard it's been for you to work through all this, and to be honest with me. But, you know, I think I can understand the struggle you were going through. I imagine it's common among people who are suddenly given an opportunity to gain entry into that world. You faced that, and you made a choice. I believe you when you say that you now think it was the wrong choice. But you took responsibility for it, accepted that you had made a choice with consequences, and you're trying to move on. I think that's all a good person can do."

Penny looked at him, her eyes wide. It was remarkable how clearly he thought about such emotional matters. And the fact that she had anticipated that he would be this deliberate in his reasoning made her feel so close to him. "Leonard, I suppose I shouldn't say this, considering. But I've never loved you more than I love you right now."

He smiled at her sweetly. "Time for you to get to the theater." And they left for the Playhouse.

As he stopped to let her out at the Playhouse and head back to Pasadena, she asked, somewhat hesitantly, "See you Saturday evening?"

"Of course," he responded. And she smiled happily as she headed through the stage door.

Leonard drove back to Caltech deep in thought. He knew that their future was now up to him. He could either accept Penny's current promises, or decide that the threat of a recurrence was too great, and too real, to risk. And he was not quite sure how to decide. He spent the afternoon in his lab, jotting down notes to himself and pacing, and continued his anxious reasoning at home that evening.

The next morning, Leonard resolved to consult with his closest friends at the Institute. He started with Howard, filling him in on the gist of Penny's revelations and the state of his own thinking.

Howard listened intently but said nothing, mindful of Bernadette's insistence that he should help Leonard make up his own mind rather than try to influence him one way or the other. But Leonard would not let him off the hook so easily. "Howard, I want to know what you think. Doesn't mean I will do what you would, but I value your opinion."

Howard pursed his lips and paused before answering. "I'm an engineer. But I don't believe that people can change like machines, that you can just flip a switch and go from AC to DC. I do believe that Penny is sincere; I think she's an honest person. And I think she sincerely believes that she made a bad decision once, and will never do it again. But I have my doubts. If she could be tempted by the glitter and excitement of Hollywood just two weeks into it, what's to rule out a repetition? Like I say, people aren't machines; they can't change with the flip of a switch."

Leonard nodded. "But you did."

"How?"

"Come on, Howard. You were a…well, let's just say that Howard post-Bernadette would have been pretty horrified by Howard pre-Bernadette."

Howard shrugged. "OK, you're right. But that's because I found a new power source, not because I flipped a switch."

Leonard laughed. Howard looked puzzled. "What's so funny?"

"Such an engineer. I get what you mean. I would have said that you transitioned from one state to another. But somehow I can't get your way of putting it out of my mind: like you took your plug out of one socket, and put it in another."

"Oy, Leonard, that's disgusting," Howard said, laughing. "But you're right, that's the way I think about it. And bringing it back to Penny, do you really think she's changed enough…OK, in your terms, do you really think she's transitioned from one state to another?"

"Yeah," Leonard answered, seriously. "That's the question. I believe that she has grown tremendously over the past few months. If you had more contact with her you'd know that. It's not that she's a different person; but she has changed a lot. I guess I'll have to think about whether that's enough for me to believe that she is capable of holding to her promise."

Next stop: Sheldon Cooper. Leonard did not have much faith in Sheldon's emotional intelligence, but he did respect Sheldon, and Sheldon probably knew Penny as well as anybody other than Leonard himself. So they sat in Sheldon's office as Leonard explained the situation to Sheldon, and asked what he thought.

Sheldon thought hard before answering. And Leonard could see that he took the matter very seriously. "I believe in free will. That means I believe that Penny did what she wanted to do at the time. But it means I also believe that she can choose not to repeat her behavior."

Leonard looked at him, frustrated. "Sheldon, you could say that about anyone. I know that in principle, free will means people can freely decide on their actions. But what I am asking is more specific: applied, not theoretical. Do you think Penny can, and will, respect our marriage in the future? Given her past behavior."

Sheldon sighed. "Leonard, you're asking me a speculative question. I don't like to speculate when it comes to human behavior; there are too many stochastic elements."

"But surely you know Penny well enough that you can introduce enough controls to get the stochastic elements to a minimum. I'm asking you to think like an empiricist for a change."

"All right, all right," Sheldon conceded. "Penny is unreliable on many dimensions. But I think when it comes to affairs of the heart, she has been relatively consistent. Once she decided that she wanted to be with you, she expected you to be faithful, and when you strayed, she was furious. The inference I would draw is that she regards her own transgression with great distaste, even shame, and does not intend to repeat it."

"Thank you," Leonard said. "That's a reasonable inference. But can I ask you something, Sheldon? You were one of Penny's best friends. I think she may have been closer to you than to anyone except me. If you were me, would you trust her? Would you take her back?"

Sheldon looked at Leonard with great seriousness, and said, "I would be cautious, and want to be presented with some continuing measure of proof. I have to admit, and I think you know, that I have been very disturbed by what she did. But from what you've been telling me, it seems to me that she is truly remorseful, and that she loves you and wants to be with you. And I know that's what you want." He paused, thinking.

"Was there something else, Sheldon?"

Sheldon spoke, a little reluctantly. "I don't want to influence you unduly, but I've known you a long time, and I care about you. So I have to tell you that I don't think you've ever been happier than when you were with Penny. Of course, I don't think you've ever been sadder than these past few months, so maybe you should take that into account. But I want to see you happy again. And I do believe it can happen."

"Thank you, Sheldon," Leonard said gratefully. "Your opinion means a lot to me." And he got up to leave.

As he headed for the door, Sheldon said to him gently, "Good luck, Leonard." Leonard nodded and headed home.

Leonard spent the rest of the day, far into the evening, pacing his apartment and trying to organize his thoughts. He started from the beginning. Penny was a brave woman. It took courage to leave Nebraska and come to LA to try to make it in the movies. But it had not really worked out, and at some level her spirit had been broken. He had tried the best he could to support her, to keep her going, but years of rejection took their toll. And so she had decided to leave her dreams of a career in the movies behind, and to move on – to another job, and to him.

Now, however, her aspirations had been revived, wonderfully. He was happy for her, and proud of Penny for her achievements. But he was painfully aware that marriage to somebody like him had not been in her catalogue of fantasies. She had undoubtedly dreamed of finding her Prince Charming, a man to carry her off into the mists of romance and passion. When she abandoned her Hollywood hopes, he felt, she also abandoned her romantic desires. She might not have recognized the compromises she was making, but they were there, and they were real. Now, however, all her dreams could be realized, now she could have pretty much any man she wanted.

And what was he to her? He wasn't particularly charming, and he was certainly not a prince. More like a priest, somebody who was always available, ready with support, willing to hear confession. A stalwart guardian. Less exciting. That was his middle name, Leonard Less-exciting Hofstadter. Not the person for a beautiful and successful actress.

No matter what Penny said, it was hard to believe that she would choose him over all the other options now available to her. It seemed unrealistic to expect her to stay with the drab scientist for whom she had settled in disappointing times. She had moved onwards and upwards, and it seemed only natural that she would leave him behind. To expect anything different was to risk yet more pain, grief, and regret.

At the same time, Sheldon was absolutely right. He had never been happier than when he was with Penny. And she did seem to have grown emotionally over the past months. Leonard knew her well, and her sincerity seemed convincing.

There was something else. Although he knew it was irrational, he could hardly bring himself to think about a life without Penny. If they did divorce, he could barely imagine what he would do next. He knew with certainty that he could never have what he had with her with any other woman. For one thing, the wounds were so deep that he himself recognized that they would probably leave him scarred for years, too scarred to dive into another relationship in the way it deserved.

On the other hand, those scars would probably color and distort his future with Penny, too. And they might make it impossible for them ever to create a healthy marriage. Was it better to try to rescue the wreckage of the best relationship of his life, knowing how difficult and risky that would be, or to try to move on? And move on to what? Yet if he stayed with Penny, would he just get hurt again, only more so?

Leonard sighed. So many questions, so few answers. At some level, he knew, logic could only take him so far. He loved Penny and wanted to spend his life with her. If she loved him, really loved him, he was confident they could work things out eventually. Penny did keep telling him how she loved him, how she wanted to be with him. But how could he believe her? Why should he believe her? Where was the evidence?