Chapter 10 – Goodbye
Leonard woke up early, when the light was just beginning to filter through the hotel curtains. The silence of the room was deep, interrupted only by the distant murmur of the city awakening.
He felt a warm pressure on his chest. He looked down and saw her: Joyce, naked, asleep on him, her messy hair spread like a fan across his skin. Her breathing was calm, steady, and every slight movement reminded him that the previous night had changed something between them.
Leonard remained still, not wanting to break the moment. The sensation was strange: a mix of calm and vertigo, as if he were trapped between newly discovered intimacy and questions he could not ask. He observed Joyce's face, relaxed, without the inquisitive intensity she usually showed in their conversations. Asleep, she seemed like another person—more vulnerable, more close.
Time stopped for a few seconds. Leonard thought of the improbability of the situation: a brilliant chemist, a spy hidden beneath that façade, and him, an experimental physicist who had learned to dodge questions with humor. Now there were no jokes, no evasions. Only her, resting on him, as if the entire world had shrunk to that room.
---
Leonard sat up slightly, feeling the weight of the sheets and the warmth of a body tangled beside him. He looked down: Joyce slept, naked, wrapped in the fabric as if it were part of her, breathing calmly.
"What a beautiful spy," Leonard thought, amused. "My life is unreal now… but that makes it exciting."
He didn't feel tied down. On the contrary, the scene felt light, almost comical. "Free, without pressure," he told himself, and let out a brief laugh, contained so as not to wake her. It was like observing a strange experiment: him, the experimental physicist, in a hotel with a woman who played at being charming even in sleep.
Joyce moved, turning in bed as if searching for something in dreams. Her hand held him softly, without opening her eyes. Leonard looked at her calmly, leaning down to kiss her back.
"I have to go," Leonard said quietly, almost a whisper.
She remained with her eyes closed, barely sketching a smile that seemed more automatic than conscious. Cold, but charming even in that state.
Leonard rose slowly, playing the role of the naïve lover. The gesture seemed real, convincing, though he knew it was only part of the act. He dressed calmly, adjusting his shirt and jacket, without hurry but with determination.
Before leaving, he looked at her one last time: tangled in the sheets, motionless, as if the entire world did not exist outside that room. Leonard—irritating, calm, analytical—was amused by the idea that his life had become something so improbable.
He opened the door and left early, leaving behind the room, the bed, and Joyce.
---
POV of Joyce Kim
The door closed with a soft click. As soon as the sound faded, Joyce opened her eyes. She remained still for a few seconds, listening to the silence left by Leo's departure. The air was still charged with the heat of the night, and the sheets tangled around her body were proof of the intensity she had just lived.
She turned slowly, exhaling with fatigue. *I'm exhausted,* she thought. *How the hell could an experimental physicist leave me like this?* She, trained to resist, to control every situation, found herself surrendered, with a heavy body and a mind still vibrating from what had happened.
She smiled faintly, a cold but charming smile. She knew Leonard was not naïve, that behind his jokes and apparent clumsiness there was calculation. *He's not stupid,* she told herself. *But that doesn't matter. I trust my plan.*
Her mission remained intact: approach him, seduce him, steal his research. And yet, there was something she could not deny: she had enjoyed it. More than she expected. *Magnificent lover,* she thought, recalling the intense energy, the unexpected strength in every gesture. It wasn't just his body—robust, firm, surprising beneath formal clothes—it was the way he gave himself, as if every movement were definitive.
Joyce settled back into the sheets, closing her eyes for a moment. *This was supposed to be only a mission,* she reminded herself. *But sleeping with him was different. Strange. Unexpected.* She had felt real pleasure, a delight she usually did not allow herself. And that unsettled her.
*Leo is manageable,* she thought coldly. *Useful. I won't let this distract me.* Yet the question kept circling in her mind: how could an experimental physicist, someone who spent his days among spectra and equations, have exhausted her so much? She, a trained agent, used to controlling every situation, had ended up surrendering.
She rose slowly, walking to the window. The morning light illuminated the room, revealing the disorder: clothes on the floor, forgotten shoes, the bed in disarray. Everything was evidence of the night's intensity. Joyce looked calmly, analyzing every detail.
*Beneath that formal façade, Leo is a man with an enviable physique,* she thought. *And that makes him even more interesting.*
She lay back down, letting fatigue envelop her. There was no attachment or romance in her gaze, only calculation. But she could not deny the obvious: she had enjoyed herself immensely. And that contradiction amused her.
*Magnificent lover,* she repeated in her mind, with a mix of coldness and satisfaction. *And still, only another piece in my mission.*
---
Leonard opened the apartment door calmly. The familiar air greeted him: the murmur of the television and the crunch of cereal on the sofa.
Sheldon sat upright, remote in one hand and a bowl in the other. His gaze fixed on the screen, but with the precision of someone who had been waiting.
Without fully turning, Sheldon spoke:
"I calculated your arrival time. My estimate was exact."
Leonard set the keys on the table, smiling, tired but amused.
"I was with someone," Leonard said, without further detail.
Sheldon nodded, as if the information fit into an invisible record.
"I didn't ask. But I appreciate the information. I'll update my statistics."
Leonard let out a brief laugh and, instead of sitting, walked straight to the hallway.
"I'm going to shower and change," Leonard said, disappearing into his room.
Sheldon didn't insist. He returned his attention to the television and cereal, as if nothing had happened.
The apartment resumed its routine: Sheldon with his calculations and Leonard with his silence, each in his own world.
---
Time slipped quickly. In a matter of weeks, Leo and Joyce had woven their own routine. It wasn't planned, but the dates followed naturally: first a trip to the movies, then a restaurant, later a discreet hotel. Each encounter had its own rhythm, and together they managed to turn the ordinary into something memorable.
It wasn't a naïve romance nor an improvised idyll. Both knew they were playing roles. Joyce, the charming spy, calculated every move. Leo, the experimental physicist, feigned wit, but behind every smile there was analysis. Yet what kept them together wasn't the lie, but the chemistry. An unexpected connection that made every encounter feel inevitable.
---
The first outing was to the movies. The chosen film was a light comedy, unpretentious, but between them the plot became secondary. Joyce leaned toward Leo to make comments in a low voice, and he responded with quick phrases that drew smiles.
In the dimness of the theater, their hands brushed from time to time. It wasn't a calculated gesture, but spontaneous, as if the contact were more interesting than what was happening on the screen. Joyce, used to measuring every detail, was surprised at how natural it felt.
When they left, they walked down the lit street. The glow of advertisements, the murmur of people, all seemed distant. What mattered was the conversation they carried, light and fun. Joyce looked at him with a smile that needed no disguise.
"The funny thing is that with you even a bad movie feels entertaining."
Leo shrugged, relaxed.
"Maybe because we're not watching the movie. We're watching each other."
She laughed softly. In that instant she understood that the surprising thing wasn't his physique or his energy, but the ease with which they understood each other.
---
**A couple of days later, they met in a discreet restaurant.**
The table was filled with simple dishes and glasses of wine. Joyce asked questions with an inquisitive air, and Leo responded with humor, deflecting just enough to keep the conversation light.
"You always dodge serious questions," Joyce said, staring at him.
Leo smiled, relaxed.
"Only when the questions are too serious for dinner."
Her laughter eased the tension, and the atmosphere became intimate. They didn't need grand confessions; the agile exchange of words was enough to make the dinner feel special.
Waiters passed by, warm lights wrapped the room, and they seemed oblivious to everything, focused only on their own game. Joyce leaned toward him, Leo replied with phrases that seemed improvised but always fit. The conversation flowed as if they had known each other for years.
---
**Nights in hotels became the most intense ground of their relationship.**
Warm rooms, dim lights, and silence that soon broke with laughter and murmurs. Joyce, used to controlling every situation, ended up exhausted after being with Leo.
Each encounter was different, but always equally intense. The synchronicity between them made everything flow effortlessly. Sheets tangled, clothes forgotten on the floor, and dawn surprised them intertwined, exhausted.
Joyce found herself ecstatic, surrendered, as if she had crossed a limit she hadn't expected. What unsettled her wasn't Leo's strength, but the way they understood each other so well. Every gesture seemed to anticipate the other, every movement fit as if rehearsed.
Trained to resist and control, Joyce found herself surrendered after each encounter. The chemistry was so evident it turned every night into a whirlwind.
Sheets tangled, clothes forgotten, and dawn surprised them exhausted. Joyce, who usually slept lightly and alert, discovered herself falling into deep sleep, as if her body couldn't take more. Leo, calm, held her with infinite serenity.
---
**Days were no less intense.**
They strolled through the city without hurry, stopping at shop windows, commenting on trivialities, sharing laughter. In dark corners, they kissed without worrying about the people around.
One afternoon, they sat on a park bench, watching couples pass by. The cool air, city lights, and murmur of people became the backdrop of their own story. They didn't need to talk much; being together was enough to make everything seem meaningful.
On another occasion, they walked across a lit bridge. Joyce stopped to look at the reflection of the lights in the water, and Leo approached, brushing her hand with his. It was a simple gesture, but full of complicity. She looked at him, and without words, both understood that the chemistry between them was undeniable.
---
**One night, spontaneity carried them further.**
Between laughter and knowing glances, they ended up hidden in a park bush. It was brief, intense, absurd, but also fun. The adrenaline of the moment, the risk of being discovered, turned that scene into one of the week's most memorable.
Joyce, who always calculated every step, let herself be carried away by laughter. Leo seemed relaxed, enjoying improvisation. The contrast between them made everything more exciting. As they left, still laughing, they walked hand in hand along the dark path, as if nothing could break the bubble they had created.
---
**Not everything was hotels or nocturnal madness.**
There were also simple moments: shared breakfasts in small cafés, conversations in bookstores, walks in the rain. Each scene, no matter how ordinary, became special thanks to the chemistry that united them.
On one occasion, they took shelter in a shop to escape a downpour. Joyce, with wet hair and clothes clinging to her skin, looked at him with a mix of fatigue and amusement. Leo, calm, offered her his jacket. She accepted, and in that simple gesture, the complicity that kept them together was revealed.
---
**The cafeteria was full of students, the murmur of conversations mixed with the clatter of trays and cutlery.**
Leonard sat with his tray, a sandwich and coffee, while Sheldon was already settled with his boxed cereal, Howard with a greasy hamburger, and Raj with his salad.
"Leonard, you've been seen with Joyce Kim too many times! What's going on?" Howard said, with a mischievous smile.
"We get along, that's all," Leo said, looking up and feigning indifference.
"Come on, man. Don't tell me there's nothing more. Details? Advice? Teach me how to flirt like you." Howard leaned toward him playfully.
"Later, Howard. Right now I'm eating," Leo said, laughing briefly and shaking his head.
"That's what I want! The Hofstadter method for winning beautiful women," Howard said, making an exaggerated gesture of deception but still smiling.
"Relationships only waste time. While you lose hours in dinners and walks, I advance in my research," Sheldon said, without lifting his eyes from his cereal.
"Sure, Sheldon, because nothing says 'full life' like eating cereal alone and calculating arrival times," Howard said, rolling his eyes.
"I… I think Joyce is very pretty," Raj murmured, barely audible, staring at his salad.
"Raj, you can't even talk to women without alcohol," Howard said, teasing him with friendly mockery.
"Well… but I can think about it," Raj said, shrugging and lowering his gaze.
Leonard smiled, amused by the dynamic. He gave no more details, explained nothing. He limited himself to biting his sandwich and letting the conversation run its course. Howard kept joking, Sheldon criticized relationships, Raj drowned in his insecurities. It was the usual routine, only now with Joyce as the central theme.
---
**The cafeteria door opened and Joyce entered.**
She walked confidently, with a kind smile that seemed to light up the room. Her presence immediately drew attention; it was clear she controlled the social scene naturally.
She approached the table, greeting with a light gesture.
"Leonard, would you like to eat in private?" Joyce said, looking directly at him.
The guys exchanged comic glances, as if sharing a silent joke. Howard raised his eyebrows enviously, Raj widened his eyes and fell silent, and Sheldon barely turned his head.
"Don't forget you're taking me home," Sheldon said with total seriousness, as if it were the only relevant detail.
Leonard felt trapped between Joyce's invitation and his friends' reactions.
---
**The afternoon sun streamed through the hallway windows.**
Leonard walked behind Joyce, still carrying the tray of food she had insisted on bringing. It wasn't a casual gesture: Joyce had proposed eating together in private, and the lab became the perfect place.
When he opened the door, Leonard let her enter first. The lab was lit by the white glow of monitors, but that afternoon there were no experiments or calculations. Tables full of cables and papers transformed into an improvised dining room.
"So this is your kingdom," Joyce said, smiling lightly as she set the food on the table.
"More like where I spend too many hours," Leonard said, adjusting his glasses.
Joyce sat naturally, unpacking the containers. She had chosen simple dishes, but the gesture was what mattered: eating together, away from the curious eyes of the cafeteria.
"I like it better this way," Joyce said, tasting a bite. "No noise, no people around."
Leonard smiled, lifting his glass.
"That's true. Here, no one interrupts," Leonard said.
The conversation flowed lightly. Between bites and comments, the atmosphere became intimate. There were no blackboards or formulas to interrupt, only the feeling of sharing a private moment in a place that was normally cold and technical.
---
Joyce leaned toward him, resting her elbow on the table.
"Do you always work this late?" Joyce asked softly.
"When there's something worth it, yes," Leonard said, taking a sip of his soda.
She looked at him intently, and for a moment the lab stopped being a workspace. The afternoon light streamed through the window, illuminating their faces, and the silence was charged with more than shared food.
Joyce brushed her hand against his, a minimal gesture but full of intention.
"Maybe you should distract yourself a little," Joyce said.
Leonard blushed, as if he had been waiting for that phrase.
"Maybe," Leonard said.
---
Joyce leaned toward Leonard and kissed him. The gesture was natural, inevitable. Leonard responded without hesitation, calm but firm.
The kiss lingered. Their lips sought each other again and again, more intense each time. Short laughs broke the silence of the lab. Joyce pushed him gently against the table, and Leonard let himself go.
Hands began to explore shoulders, arms, faces. Quick caresses, others slower. Clothes began to fall effortlessly: first the jacket, then the shirt unbuttoned one by one, a shoe forgotten beside the table. Each garment lay on the floor as part of the scene.
The lab was lit by the golden afternoon light streaming through the windows and the cold glow of the monitors. The contrast made every movement stand out: Joyce's shadow leaning over Leonard, the reflection of their gestures on the screen.
Their breathing quickened. The rustle of clothes on the floor, the sound of chairs moving, murmurs between them filled the space. There were no long words, only short phrases, barely audible, accompanying the energy of the moment.
Joyce looked at him closely, intensely. Leonard remained calm, but his hands responded with certainty. The closeness became absolute.
The lab, with cables and blackboards around, transformed into an intimate place. What was normally cold and technical was now full of warmth, movement, and evident attraction.
Clothes on the floor, sustained gazes, and ragged breaths marked what was happening. There was no need to say it: they had crossed the line.
---
Leonard recognized his clothes calmly. The shirt was on the back of a chair, the shoes beside the table, the jacket on the floor. He dressed unhurriedly, fastening each button as if nothing rushed him.
Joyce, still near the table, watched him silently. Her gaze was calm, but her hands moved discreetly. From her bag she pulled out a small USB drive, ordinary, unremarkable. She held it for a few seconds, waiting for the right moment.
Leonard had his back turned, adjusting his shirt. Joyce took advantage. She leaned toward the computer, plugged the USB into the port, and opened the folder he had left accessible.
The screen showed the immediate transfer. Files began copying one after another. Joyce stared at the monitor, making sure everything would be saved. For her, those files were authentic, sensitive information she had to obtain. No one suspected they were false.
The click of the device, the brief hum of the system, filled the silence. Leonard heard it. Perhaps he noticed. But he didn't react. He continued dressing, adjusting his glasses, gathering papers from the table.
Joyce removed the USB with the same discretion she had used to connect it. She put it back in her bag, her expression unchanged. The file was copied. The trap had worked… or so she thought.
Leonard turned slowly, looking at her calmly. He said nothing. Only amused.
---
The afternoon air was different outside the lab. Joyce walked beside Leonard, but her pace was quicker, more determined. She had completed her "mission" and now needed to close the chapter.
She stopped in the middle of the hallway, turned toward him, and looked with a smile that seemed sincere, though it hid distance.
"Leonard… I have to go."
He looked at her calmly, without surprise.
"Go?" he asked serenely.
Joyce lowered her gaze for a moment, as if searching for the best way to say it.
"I've been assigned a project in another city."
She paused, then added in a more personal tone:
"I need to focus on my career… and honestly, I'm not ready for something serious."
The words floated in the air. Leonard listened without drama, without reproach. Only calm, as if he had expected something like this.
"I understand," Leonard said calmly.
Joyce stepped closer. The silence grew intense. She kissed him hard, a long, deep kiss, full of everything left unsaid. Leonard responded unhurriedly, as if wanting to keep that moment in memory.
When they parted, Joyce said nothing more. She turned and began to walk. Her figure moved away decisively, without looking back.
Leonard followed her with his eyes for a few seconds. There was no sadness on his face, no dramatics. He adjusted his glasses, took a deep breath, and before turning in another direction, smiled. It was a brief smile, full of amusement.
---
The car engine hummed steadily as Leonard drove back to the apartment. The city lit up little by little, and Sheldon, in the passenger seat, stared out the window thoughtfully.
He soon broke the silence.
"And Joyce?" he asked directly.
Leonard kept his eyes on the road.
"She left," he replied calmly.
Sheldon turned toward him, frowning.
"You know she wanted to steal your work, right?"
Leonard let out a short laugh.
"Yes. She was a North Korean spy."
Sheldon blinked several times, processing the phrase.
"When did you know?"
Leonard adjusted his glasses, still serene.
"From the moment I met her."
Sheldon looked at him closely, more incisive this time.
"Then tell me… why did you go out with her?"
Leonard smiled, amused.
"Bazinga."
Sheldon looked at him with disapproval.
"That doesn't apply here."
Leonard laughed to himself, enjoying the moment.
The car moved a few more meters in silence, until Sheldon spoke again.
"I noticed when she showed excessive interest in your research. No normal person asks that much about your calculations."
Leonard nodded, still smiling.
"Exactly. That's why I prepared the computer. I left an accessible folder, full of fake, lightweight data, designed to look authentic. She thought she had gotten something valuable. In reality, she copied what I wanted her to copy."
Sheldon listened intently, processing every word.
"So… it was all a trick?"
Leonard smiled more broadly this time.
"Yes. She thought she was manipulating me, but in reality I was guiding her."
Sheldon settled into his seat, crossing his arms.
"That is… surprisingly astute for you."
Leonard let out another short laugh.
"You have to have fun in life, Sheldon, even if you don't understand."
Sheldon looked at him seriously, unable to grasp the lightness. Leonard, meanwhile, kept driving calmly, enjoying the irony of the situation.
---