As Stuart Bloom In TBBT Chapter 72: The New Year's Decision

Midnight.

Fireworks exploding over LA. The penthouse balcony's cold. Penny's wearing my jacket over her dress.

Her phone rings.

She looks at the screen. Goes pale.

"It's my agent."

"At midnight?"

"She said she'd call as soon as she knew." Penny answers. "Hello?"

I can't hear the other side. Just watch Penny's face transform.

"I—really? Yes. Yes, I—thank you. Thank you so much."

She hangs up.

Turns to .

"I got it."

"The part?"

"Six months. February through August. They want in New York by January twenty-fifth for rehearsals."

She's crying. Happy tears. Devastated tears. Both.

I pull her into a hug. "Penny, that's incredible. Congratulations."

"Stuart—"

"I an it. This is your dream."

"But—"

"We'll talk. Just—celebrate first. You earned this."

She's sobbing into my chest. I'm holding her. The city's celebrating around us. Fireworks and horns and distant cheering.

We're ending.

I can feel it in how she's clinging to .

Three weeks. Then she's gone.

1 AM. The fireworks have stopped.

We're sitting on the couch. Wine glasses between us. Neither drinking.

"We should talk about this," Penny says quietly.

"Yeah."

"Long distance is—"

"Rarely works. Especially for new relationships."

"We're not that new. Seven months."

"Seven months is new. For six-month separation."

She's quiet. Then: "You can't leave LA. Your businesses are here. Marvel consulting. Wil's investnt. Everything."

"And you can't turn down Off-Broadway. This is the opportunity. The thing you moved to LA to eventually reach."

"So we—" She can't say it.

"We have three weeks."

"And then?"

"And then you go to New York. Chase your dream. Be brilliant."

"Without you."

"Without ."

She's crying again. Harder now.

"This is so fucked. I finally find soone perfect and timing destroys it."

"Timing destroyed it with lissa too."

"I'm not lissa."

"I know."

"Then why—" She's angry now. "Why can't we make this work? People do long distance. People make it work."

"So people do. We won't."

"How do you know?"

"Because we'd resent each other. You'd resent for being here while you're alone in New York. I'd resent you for leaving. That resentnt would poison everything."

"So we just—give up?"

"We acknowledge reality. You're going to New York for six months. That's non-negotiable. I'm staying in LA. Also non-negotiable. Neither of us should sacrifice our future for a seven-month relationship."

"But I love you."

"I love you too. That's why I won't ask you to stay."

She's silent. Processing.

Then: "Three weeks."

"Three weeks."

"What do we do with three weeks?"

"Enjoy them. Make mories. End this right."

"How do you end love right?"

"By being grateful it happened instead of bitter it's ending."

2 AM. We're lying in bed. Not sleeping. Just holding each other.

"Stuart?"

"Yeah?"

"After I leave. After we—" She pauses. "—can we be friends? Eventually?"

"I hope so."

"I don't want to lose you completely."

"You won't. We'll just—change. From this to sothing else."

"Sothing less."

"Different. Not necessarily less."

"You really believe that?"

"I'm choosing to believe it."

She's quiet again. Then: "I'm scared."

"Of New York?"

"Of forgetting this. Forgetting us. What we had."

"You won't forget."

"How do you know?"

"Because this mattered. Things that matter leave marks."

She turns to face . "Promise sothing."

"What?"

"Don't be sad. After I leave. Don't—waste ti being sad when you could be living."

"I'll try."

"Promise."

"I promise."

"Liar."

"Yeah."

She kisses . "I'm going to miss you so much."

"I'm going to miss you too."

"Three weeks."

"Three weeks."

Outside, LA's finishing its celebration. Stragglers heading ho. The year turning over.

Last New Year's together.

I hold her tighter.

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