As Stuart Bloom In TBBT

April 15, 2011. Napa Valley.

The hotel's perfect. Auberge du Soleil. Hilltop. Vineyards everywhere.

$1,200 per night. Worth it.

Katie's quiet in the car. Looking out the window.

"You okay?" I ask.

"Just—taking it in. It's beautiful."

"Wait until you see the room."

"Stuart. This is—too much."

"It's our anniversary. One year. That's—everything."

She reaches over. Squeezes my hand.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

But her voice cracks. Like she's about to cry.

The room's incredible. Private terrace. Valley view. King bed.

Katie walks to the terrace. Stands there.

I come up behind her. Wrap my arms around her waist.

"Happy anniversary."

"Happy anniversary."

She's crying.

"Hey. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm just—overwhelmed. By how much you love me."

"That's a good thing."

"Is it?"

"Of course it is."

She turns. Looks at me. Eyes red.

"Do I deserve this?"

"Katie—"

"No. Seriously. Do I deserve you? How good you are? How much you give?"

"Yes. Obviously yes."

"I don't know if that's true."

"It's true."

She kisses me. Desperate. Clinging.

Something's very wrong.

But I don't ask.

Because I'm scared of the answer.

Dinner. French Laundry. Reservations impossible. Unless you're me.

Marvel connections. Again.

The food's art. Presentation. Flavor. Experience.

Katie's trying. Smiling. Laughing.

But it's performance.

I've watched her act. On set. In auditions.

This is acting.

"When did you book this?" she asks.

"Six weeks ago."

"You've been planning that long?"

"I wanted it perfect."

"It is. Perfect."

But she's crying again.

"Katie. Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing. I'm just—emotional. Happy. Overwhelmed."

"That's all?"

"That's all."

Liar.

She's lying to my face.

I can see it. Feel it.

But I don't call her out.

Because if I do—

If I push—

Everything might break.

Back at the hotel. Gift exchange.

I give her the bracelet. Platinum. "One Year, Forever To Go" engraved.

She starts sobbing.

"It's beautiful."

"You like it?"

"I love it. I love you. I don't—I don't deserve this."

"Stop saying that."

"Stuart—"

"You deserve everything good. Everything. You're amazing. Talented. Beautiful. Kind. You deserve the world."

She's shaking. Full breakdown.

"I'm not—I'm not who you think I am."

My heart stops.

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing. Forget I said that. I'm just—emotional. Tired. Stressed."

"Katie—"

She kisses me. Hard. Desperate.

"Make love to me. Please. I need—I need to feel close to you."

We do.

But it feels like goodbye.

Like she's memorizing me.

Trying to hold on to something that's already gone.

Sunday morning. Last day. Checkout.

Katie's been crying in the shower.

I heard her.

But I don't ask.

We're driving back to LA. Silent.

Halfway home, she speaks.

"Thank you. For the weekend. For everything."

"Of course."

"I mean it. You're—you're the best thing that ever happened to me."

"Katie. You're scaring me. What's going on?"

"Nothing. I just—I wanted you to know. How much you mean to me."

"I know."

"Good."

We drive the rest of the way in silence.

Home. Our apartment. Unpacking.

Katie goes to the bathroom. Locks the door.

I hear her crying again.

Harder this time.

I stand outside. Hand on the door.

"Katie? Please. Talk to me."

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine."

"I just need a minute."

"Okay."

I go to the living room. Sit on the couch.

Our apartment. Our life. Our future.

But something's broken.

I can feel it.

The memory tingle's constant now. Screaming.

WRONG WRONG WRONG WAKE UP—

The bathroom door opens.

Katie comes out. Face washed. Makeup reapplied.

"Sorry. Hormones. PMS. You know."

"Katie—"

"I'm going to bed. I'm exhausted."

"It's five PM."

"I know. I just—I need to sleep."

She goes to the bedroom. Closes the door.

I sit alone in our living room.

The bracelet box is on the table. Empty.

"One Year, Forever To Go" engraved on platinum.

Forever to go.

Unless—

Unless forever ends sooner than I thought.

My phone buzzes. Text from Leonard.

Leonard: How was the trip?

Me: Perfect.

Leonard: You sure?

I don't respond.

Because I'm not sure.

I'm not sure of anything anymore.

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