"I need a room, please," Amy said quietly, as she stood at the long counter in the lobby of The Belshire Hotel, Pasadena.

"Of course. I'd be happy to help you. I'll need a credit card and a form of ID, please. How long will you be staying with us?" Amy met the concierge's eyes, flummoxed by the question. How long would she be staying? Her apartment was trashed. Her relationship with Sheldon was trashed. Her whole life suddenly felt like a big pile of steaming garbage, and the stink of it all made her feel nauseated. She couldn't very well burden Bernadette and Howard, they already had Stuart. And she certainly couldn't stay with Penny and Leonard. That was entirely too close to Sheldon. She gulped. Her only other option was her mother's home, and she couldn't bear her mother's criticism and I-told-you-sos right now.

"I'm not sure," Amy finally said, her eyes glistening anew with tears. She took a deep breath and coughed, keeping the tears at bay. "Several days at least. How about through the end of the week? My apartment was destroyed in the earthquake earlier this week. I had, um, been staying with, um, friends. That's no longer an option."

"Oh! I'm so sorry to hear about your troubles. That earthquake seemed mild, but we have several guests in our extended-stay program right now that were also put out. I can schedule you through next week, tentatively. If something changes, all you have to do is come down and change the reservation. Considering the circumstances, I'll notate the account that no surcharge will be placed on the account if you should shorten your stay. Here is your key, and the elevator is right over there. You're on the 23rd floor, room 11. 2311."

Amy's eyes went wide. "2311?! Um. Great, great. Thank you." Turning quickly, she shook her head, laughing manically. "2311, figures." Sheldon's ghost was following her, even here. She walked briskly to the elevator, feeling weighed down by her duffel. She had to get up to her room sooner rather than later. She was exhausted and all she wanted to do now was curl up in a ball and cry herself to sleep.

Entering the serviceable hotel room, she glanced around without any real reaction. It could be any hotel, anywhere. No amenities in the world would change what it really was: a cave, where she could hibernate and lick her wounds. She glanced at her phone and saw she had missed several calls from both Penny and Bernadette. Upon closer reflection, she noticed four text messages that had come through from Penny and Bernadette as well.

Penny: You and Sheldon HAD SEX!

Penny: CALL ME! I need details!

Bernadette: GIRL'S NIGHT TONIGHT? WE OBVIOUSLY NEED TO TALK! ;)

Penny: YAS! Amy is the new QUEEN!

Her phone rang again and Penny's name popped up on the screen again. Denying the call, Amy sighed sadly, and listlessly turned the phone off and tossed it in her duffel. Sitting on the bed, Amy felt like she held the weight of an elephant on her shoulders. Her neck was sore, and her body felt weak from her earlier break down in the car, and her dumb wrist was still throbbing. She couldn't talk to her friends. They were Sheldon's friends first, and how could she rejoice in the loss of her virginity if she didn't even know if she and Sheldon were still together? Well, you haven't signed the termination notice, so you're still together.

Shaking her head despondently, she kicked off her shoes and laid on her back. staring hopelessly at the ceiling. Sure, the relationship agreement was still in place, but it was only a silly document that let Sheldon keep his semblance of control over their relationship. And, as he himself admitted frequently, it was skewed in his favor. Everything had always been skewed in his favor. And now that she had finally gotten what she wanted? She almost wished she hadn't. Choking on the tears that had begun to fall down the sides of her face to the pillow below, Amy cried out and turned to her side.

She ran her hands up and down her arms, as she cradled them tightly against her torso. He had touched her so gently, so softly and beautifully. She had expected some level of anxiety after- Sheldon wasn't good with big changes in his life and what was bigger than giving her his virginity after all? But she had not expected this: That he could share his body with her and still hold back his heart, unwillingly to commit. Stretching, she reached for her bag on the floor beside her. She ruffled through it to find the Tylenol she kept in her travel first-aid kit. A headache was now raging behind her eyes due to her tears. Her hand grasped a t-shirt that she didn't immediately recognize as hers. Pulling it from the bag, she realized immediately it was Sheldon's 'Green Lantern' shirt that he had worn yesterday, before the party. She must have accidentally grabbed it with her things. His talc scent drifted to her nostrils and she was flooded with a desperate desire to call him and make this right.

Was there any way to fix this? Could their relationship be saved? Could she ask Sheldon for a reset, like he had done after she had kissed him drunkenly all those years ago? Is that even something Sheldon would consider? Was it something she could consider? Could she even go back to a relationship where she begged for every scrap of attention and affection? She wasn't sure. Now that she knew- really knew- what it felt like to be held in the circle of his arms, the touch of his lips against her neck, could she return to a relationship where he fussed about holding her hand or giving her a reserved peck after date night?

She didn't think she could do that. And she mattered too. I matter, damn it. It wasn't all about Sheldon. Accepting that, she also accepted that perhaps she needed to let him go. If he wouldn't move forward, then maybe this was it for them. But could she be done with Sheldon? How? He was her match, and she knew there would never be another she loved so deeply. This wasn't fair. The injustice of it all weighed heavily on her broken heart. Anger and regret rising up within her, Amy pulled her knees to her chest, holding herself tightly in the fetal position. Clutching the t-shirt to her chest, she buried her nose in it, as she began to rock herself mindlessly back and forth. Grief over what had been lost, perhaps forever, settled on her like an anvil. She closed her eyes, and with tears still wet upon her cheeks, she fell into a fitful sleep, her fingers tightly gripping his t-shirt.