Endorphins, Pt. 2
Oh God, guys. Sorry. Just have faith I’ll make it all better…eventually.- atd
House’s therapy appointment was supposed to be every Tuesday, at 6 o clock.
It was easy enough for him to keep up the lie-he’d make vague statements about breakthroughs, being sure to occasionally complain about how pretentious or wind-baggy Nolan was, just to make it all credible. He also tried to be on his best behavior-putting down the toilet seat, never drinking straight from the milk carton, calling when he was coming home late-so that Cuddy would think he was making progress in his sessions. In the hour he was supposed to in therapy, he usually just rode his bike around town. If it was raining, he went to the library.
This could’ve gone on indefinitely, if House hadn’t accidentally left his phone at work. He was scheduled to meet Cuddy at their favorite little Italian osteria after the appointment, but the restaurant called and needed to switch the reservation from 8 to 7:30. Cuddy called his cell phone and left several messages. When he never called back, she called Nolan’s office.
“Hi, this is Dr. Lisa Cuddy. My boyfriend Dr. Gregory House is in a session with Dr. Nolan right now,” she told his receptionist. “When he gets out, can you tell him the reservation got switched from 8 to 7:30?”
“Dr. House?” the receptionist said, confused.
“Yeah, scruffy guy with a limp?”
“I know who Dr. House is but he’s, um, not ….here,” the receptionist said, carefully.
“He’s not?” Cuddy scratched her brow. “That’s weird. Isn’t this the time of his usual appointment?”
“Um . . .can you hold please?”
“Sure.” Something about the woman’s tone of voice made Cuddy nervous.
A few seconds later, there was a man’s voice: Deep and resonant: “This is Dr. Nolan,” he said.
“Dr. Nolan, it’s Lisa Cuddy, House’s girlfriend? Is he there with you?”
“No,” Nolan said. “He hasn’t been to therapy in nearly three months.”
Cuddy almost dropped the phone.
“What?” she said.
“Yes, I’m surprised you didn’t know. House broke off his therapy after just two sessions.”
“But . . . why?”
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to ask Dr. House,” Nolan said. “Sorry I can’t be of more help.” And he hung up.
######
Of course House was half an hour late to the restaurant. When he got there, Cuddy was already at the table and had almost polished off a bottle of wine on her own.
“Looks like someone got a head start,” he joked, sitting down, and pouring himself the remains of the bottle.
“They switched the reservation to 7:30,” Cuddy said.
“Oh shit. And I left my phone at the office. Sorry. . .Did you order the usual for me?”
She didn’t answer, instead just took another giant swig of her wine.
He looked up at her. “You okay?”
“When I couldn’t get in touch with you on your cellphone, I tried Nolan’s office,” she said, coolly.
House’s face turned white.
“Oh,” he said.
“Why didn’t you tell me you had stopped going to therapy?” she hissed through gritted teeth.
“Because I was afraid of a reaction something like this,” he said.
“You lied to me. Again.”
“I’m sorry. It was wrong not to tell you. I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
“Well, I am disappointed House. I’m disappointed that you stopped therapy and I’m even more disappointed that you lied to me.”
The waiter came over to the table, saw that things were tense and slowly backed away: “I’ll give you a few more minutes,” he said, with strained cheer.
“I screwed up,” House said.
“But why, House. Why did you stop therapy?”
“It wasn’t working,” House said.
“And you knew that after two sessions?”
“Nolan and I have an essential difference of opinion. We had reached an impasse. There was no point in continuing. It was a waste of everyone’s time.”
“Let me guess: Nolan thinks you need help. You disagree.”
“It’s not quite that simple,” House said, looking down.
“Then enlighten me.”
“I . . .can’t.”
“Oh if you give me some bullshit doctor/patient confidentiality story, I swear to God, House. . .”
“It’s private. I’d rather not to tell you,” he said. “I’m sorry.” He went to take her hand, but she yanked it away.
“Tell me what to do,” he said. “I can find another doctor. Start therapy with someone new.”
“We both know that’s not going to work. The fact that you found a doctor you actually respected was nothing short of a miracle. There is no other therapist out there for you.”
“I know,” House admitted.
“Then stop patronizing me. Stop handling me. Just be honest!”
House closed his eyes.
“But things have been good lately, right?” he said. “I’ve been trying really hard. And it’s working. We haven’t been fighting. You’ve been happy, right?”
“I was. That was before I found out my boyfriend was lying to my face every week,” Cuddy said.
“Please forgive me,” House said, eyeing her pathetically.
She drew a sharp breath.
“Let’s just order,” she said wearily, motioning for the waiter.
They had a tense dinner and settled on an awkward truce when they got home.
“I love you,” House whispered in her ear in bed that night.
“I know you do,” she replied. “I just wish you didn’t have to make everything so hard.”
#####
Dr. Darryl Nolan pulled his keys out of his coat pocket and was about to open his car door, when he heard a female voice.
“Dr. Nolan?”
He looked up. It was a beautiful woman, a knockout really-her cheeks flushed from the cold-dressed in an expensive herringbone wool coat and glamorous high heels. He knew right away who she was.
“Dr. Cuddy I presume,” he said.
“I hope I didn’t. . .startle you,” she said.
“You did, a little.”
“I’m sorry. I know this is terribly unorthodox, but I need to talk to you about House.”
“Dr. Cuddy, you know I can’t do that.”
“Call me Lisa,” she said.
“Even if I call you Lisa, I still can’t talk about one of my patients,” he said.
“But he’s not a patient anymore is he? You told me so last night.”
“I still can’t . . .”
“I just want to know why he stopped doing therapy. Can you at least tell me that?”
Nolan studied her.
“He didn’t tell you?”
“No. All he said was you had a difference of opinion.”
“Very diplomatic,” Nolan said, almost to himself. Then he opened his car door. “I’ll tell you what, Dr. Cuddy, I’ll talk to you but not here in a parking lot. I have a cancellation tomorrow at 10 am. Come by and we can have this discussion in the appropriate, clinical setting.”
“Absolutely,” she said quickly. “I’ll be there.”
######
Cuddy had only been to a therapist once before, when her mother found out about the brief affair she’d had with her father’s best friend. That was forced on her, deeply humiliating, and completely unnecessary. (The doctor’s conclusion: She was a highly intelligent and impulsive teenage girl who fancied herself way more worldly than she actually was.) For that reason, she’d always had somewhat negative associations with therapy. But she had to push past those. This was for House. Still, something about the look on Nolan’s face when he said, “He didn’t tell you?” made her nervous. Was she somehow part of the reason House left therapy?
She sat in Nolan’s waiting room, staring the bland, generic water colors on the wall, unconsciously jangling her leg. The lighting, the furniture, the art were all designed to soothe-it wasn’t working.
Finally, the receptionist said, “He’ll see you now.”
Nolan greeted her with a handshake and a smile.
She understood, immediately, why House had liked him-well, did, at least. He was distinguished. He had gravitas. But he also wasn’t intimidating. Even with all his academic bearing-that posture, that voice-there was something accessible about him.
“Thank you for coming in,” Nolan said.
“No, thank you for seeing me,” she said.
“How are things going with House?” he asked.
“Fine. I mean, I thought they were going fine. And then I found out that he has been lying to me for the past three months.”
“That must’ve been very upsetting for you.”
She looked at him, cautiously. “It was,” she said.
“It’s difficult to be in a relationship with a man like House, I imagine,” Nolan said.
Cuddy gave a tiny, self-conscious chuckle.
“Am I being psychoanalyzed here?” she said.
“Sorry,” he said, smiling a bit too broadly. “Force of habit.”
“Hey, ask me anything you want,” Cuddy said. “Hopefully we can both get our answers.”
“I assume the living situation with you two is still the same?” Nolan queried. “He’s still living with you but maintaining his apartment?”
She looked at him, a little surprised.
“He told you that?”
“Yes.”
She folded her hands in her lap.
“Um, yes. That’s still our arrangement.”
“Why are you afraid to take the plunge?”
“I have a three-year-old daughter.”
“I know. Rachel. He speaks very highly of her.”
“Yeah, she adores him too.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“He’s a risky proposition.”
“How so?”
“Well, you know him. Former addict. . .”
“No such thing as a former addict,” Nolan corrected. “He’s still an addict.”
Cuddy nodded. “Right. Plus, Anti-social, impatient, angry at the world. Not necessarily the best role model for a 3-year-old girl.”
“So what are you with him?”
The question took her by surprise.
“For the usual reasons a woman is with a man. Because I love him.”
“But not enough to let him permanently move in.”
“We’re taking it slow.”
“You’ve known him for twenty years. How much more time do you need?”
“I guess I’m …scared,” she admitted.
“And he senses that. Senses that you don’t trust him. That you’re dissatisfied with him.”
“I’m not dissatisfied with him!”
“He thinks you are.”
“I still don’t see why that would compel him to stop doing therapy.”
Nolan made direct eye contact with her.
“Because I told him to break up with you.”
There was a brief, shocked silence.
“I’m sorry?” Cuddy said, although she had heard him perfectly.
“It was my professional recommendation to House that he break up with you.”
“But…why?”
“Because you make him feel badly about himself.”
“I . . love him!”
“I believe you do. You also pick at him, constantly. He feels like he’s always having to prove himself to you, to pass some sort of impossible test. It’s not House’s job to convince you that he’s a worthy partner to you.”
Cuddy looked at the floor, felt her face get hot. Some of what Nolan was saying had the ring of truth.
“You don’t know what it’s like being with him,” she explained, feeling defensive. “He doesn’t follow the normal social codes. His brilliance alienates him-always has. Relating to other people is hard for him. It’s almost like he has to be taught how to be in a healthy relationship.”
“Are you his girlfriend or his therapist?”
Cuddy felt like she’d been slapped.
“I’m his girlfriend,” she said.
“Then act like it,” Nolan said.
“So I’m supposed to just let him do whatever he wants, whenever he wants?”
“No,” Nolan said. “If you’re not happy with his behavior, you should break up with him.”
“But I don’t want to break up with him!”
“You tell me that his brilliance alienates him. You tell me that he has to be taught how to be in a healthy relationship. But he told me he was on much steadier ground in his relationship with Stacy Warner. That they felt like equal partners.”
Cuddy tensed.
“He talked about Stacy?” she said.
“I asked him about her,” Nolan said. “He didn’t volunteer the information.”
“It’s not fair to compare the two relationships,” Cuddy said.
“Why not?”
“For one thing, that was before the infarction, before the pills. He’s gotten a lot darker, a lot more isolated since then.”
“I agree.”
“And Stacy didn’t have a child.”
“I agree with that, too.”
“I always have to think of Rachel first.”
“Of course you do.”
She squinted at him.
“So you think that House is an unsuitable partner for me?”
“I think you think he is,” Nolan said.
“You’re twisting my words.”
“No, I’m not. You’re deeply conflicted in your feelings toward him. And he senses that. I think it impedes his progress toward mental health. But, on the other hand, he loves you so much that the mere suggestion of a break up sent him flying out of this office in a rage. So we seem to be at an impasse.”
“You think I’m impeding his mental health?” Cuddy said, shakily.
“In a word, yes. He wants to please you so badly, his whole life is dedicated to pleasing you. You make him feel unstable, inadequate. House, despite all his bravado, is deeply insecure. You add to his insecurities.”
Cuddy nodded wordlessly. She felt drained, sucker-punched.
“Thanks for taking the time to see me,” she said, standing up slowly.
“I can see that I upset you,” Nolan said. “I’m sorry.”
“No,” Cuddy said, in a bit of a daze. “I’m glad I came. I needed to hear this. I had no idea what I was doing to him. I was selfish. I was only thinking about my needs.”
“Well, maybe that’s the first step toward healing,” Nolan said.
She nodded, vaguely, but he could tell that she was lost in thought and hadn’t really heard.
#####
That night, she was waiting for House when he got home, sitting at the kitchen table, in the dark.
“This looks depressing,” he said, with a chuckle, sitting across from her.
“I think we should stop seeing each other,” she blurted out.
His mouth dropped open.
“What?”
“I think we should break up.”
“Cuddy, I already apologized about the Nolan thing. What more do you want me to do?”
“It’s not about that. Well, not entirely. I just think that it’s not fair for me to keep you in limbo like this. You want to move in and I keep stalling.”
“I don’t mind,” he said anxiously. “It’s a big decision. Take all the time you need. I’m happy with the way things are. I don’t need anything more.”
“Yes, you do.”
“I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“You deserve a woman who accepts you as you are, who doesn’t try to change you.”
“Such a creature doesn’t exist,” he said, trying to make light. He stood up, went to her, put his arms around her neck. “You’re the only one who can put up with me.”
She wriggled away. “I’m serious.”
“Cuddy, you’re not making any sense.”
“Stacy Warner split from Mark,” Cuddy said, seemingly out-of-the-blue. “Did you know that?”
House stared at her.
“What? What the fuck does she have to do with any of this?”
“It’s true,” Cuddy said. “She’s living in Hoboken. An hour away. You should contact her.”
In truth, Cuddy had found out about Stacy’s divorce several weeks ago. She’d been trying to find the right time to tell House, but could never quite bring herself to do it. (“Hey honey, good news! The former love of your life is back on the market!”) Now, however, seemed like an excellent time.
“Why the fuck would I want to contact Stacy?” House said. “She has nothing to do with us.”
“I’m saying that you should be with a woman who accepts you, as you are.”
He slumped into another chair, as though he suddenly couldn’t sustain his own weight.
“You accept me. No one knows me like you do-and you still accept me,” he said.
“Not enough,” she said.
“Cuddy, I’m sorry. I screwed up. I promised I wouldn’t lie to you and I did. It was a horrible mistake. Let me fix it. Whatever I did wrong, let me fix it. Just tell me. Please don’t do this.”
“It’s too late, House,” she said, not able to look him in the eye. “It’s already done.”
To be continued…
House’s therapy appointment was supposed to be every Tuesday, at 6 o clock.
It was easy enough for him to keep up the lie-he’d make vague statements about breakthroughs, being sure to occasionally complain about how pretentious or wind-baggy Nolan was, just to make it all credible. He also tried to be on his best behavior-putting down the toilet seat, never drinking straight from the milk carton, calling when he was coming home late-so that Cuddy would think he was making progress in his sessions. In the hour he was supposed to in therapy, he usually just rode his bike around town. If it was raining, he went to the library.
This could’ve gone on indefinitely, if House hadn’t accidentally left his phone at work. He was scheduled to meet Cuddy at their favorite little Italian osteria after the appointment, but the restaurant called and needed to switch the reservation from 8 to 7:30. Cuddy called his cell phone and left several messages. When he never called back, she called Nolan’s office.
“Hi, this is Dr. Lisa Cuddy. My boyfriend Dr. Gregory House is in a session with Dr. Nolan right now,” she told his receptionist. “When he gets out, can you tell him the reservation got switched from 8 to 7:30?”
“Dr. House?” the receptionist said, confused.
“Yeah, scruffy guy with a limp?”
“I know who Dr. House is but he’s, um, not ….here,” the receptionist said, carefully.
“He’s not?” Cuddy scratched her brow. “That’s weird. Isn’t this the time of his usual appointment?”
“Um . . .can you hold please?”
“Sure.” Something about the woman’s tone of voice made Cuddy nervous.
A few seconds later, there was a man’s voice: Deep and resonant: “This is Dr. Nolan,” he said.
“Dr. Nolan, it’s Lisa Cuddy, House’s girlfriend? Is he there with you?”
“No,” Nolan said. “He hasn’t been to therapy in nearly three months.”
Cuddy almost dropped the phone.
“What?” she said.
“Yes, I’m surprised you didn’t know. House broke off his therapy after just two sessions.”
“But . . . why?”
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to ask Dr. House,” Nolan said. “Sorry I can’t be of more help.” And he hung up.
######
Of course House was half an hour late to the restaurant. When he got there, Cuddy was already at the table and had almost polished off a bottle of wine on her own.
“Looks like someone got a head start,” he joked, sitting down, and pouring himself the remains of the bottle.
“They switched the reservation to 7:30,” Cuddy said.
“Oh shit. And I left my phone at the office. Sorry. . .Did you order the usual for me?”
She didn’t answer, instead just took another giant swig of her wine.
He looked up at her. “You okay?”
“When I couldn’t get in touch with you on your cellphone, I tried Nolan’s office,” she said, coolly.
House’s face turned white.
“Oh,” he said.
“Why didn’t you tell me you had stopped going to therapy?” she hissed through gritted teeth.
“Because I was afraid of a reaction something like this,” he said.
“You lied to me. Again.”
“I’m sorry. It was wrong not to tell you. I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
“Well, I am disappointed House. I’m disappointed that you stopped therapy and I’m even more disappointed that you lied to me.”
The waiter came over to the table, saw that things were tense and slowly backed away: “I’ll give you a few more minutes,” he said, with strained cheer.
“I screwed up,” House said.
“But why, House. Why did you stop therapy?”
“It wasn’t working,” House said.
“And you knew that after two sessions?”
“Nolan and I have an essential difference of opinion. We had reached an impasse. There was no point in continuing. It was a waste of everyone’s time.”
“Let me guess: Nolan thinks you need help. You disagree.”
“It’s not quite that simple,” House said, looking down.
“Then enlighten me.”
“I . . .can’t.”
“Oh if you give me some bullshit doctor/patient confidentiality story, I swear to God, House. . .”
“It’s private. I’d rather not to tell you,” he said. “I’m sorry.” He went to take her hand, but she yanked it away.
“Tell me what to do,” he said. “I can find another doctor. Start therapy with someone new.”
“We both know that’s not going to work. The fact that you found a doctor you actually respected was nothing short of a miracle. There is no other therapist out there for you.”
“I know,” House admitted.
“Then stop patronizing me. Stop handling me. Just be honest!”
House closed his eyes.
“But things have been good lately, right?” he said. “I’ve been trying really hard. And it’s working. We haven’t been fighting. You’ve been happy, right?”
“I was. That was before I found out my boyfriend was lying to my face every week,” Cuddy said.
“Please forgive me,” House said, eyeing her pathetically.
She drew a sharp breath.
“Let’s just order,” she said wearily, motioning for the waiter.
They had a tense dinner and settled on an awkward truce when they got home.
“I love you,” House whispered in her ear in bed that night.
“I know you do,” she replied. “I just wish you didn’t have to make everything so hard.”
#####
Dr. Darryl Nolan pulled his keys out of his coat pocket and was about to open his car door, when he heard a female voice.
“Dr. Nolan?”
He looked up. It was a beautiful woman, a knockout really-her cheeks flushed from the cold-dressed in an expensive herringbone wool coat and glamorous high heels. He knew right away who she was.
“Dr. Cuddy I presume,” he said.
“I hope I didn’t. . .startle you,” she said.
“You did, a little.”
“I’m sorry. I know this is terribly unorthodox, but I need to talk to you about House.”
“Dr. Cuddy, you know I can’t do that.”
“Call me Lisa,” she said.
“Even if I call you Lisa, I still can’t talk about one of my patients,” he said.
“But he’s not a patient anymore is he? You told me so last night.”
“I still can’t . . .”
“I just want to know why he stopped doing therapy. Can you at least tell me that?”
Nolan studied her.
“He didn’t tell you?”
“No. All he said was you had a difference of opinion.”
“Very diplomatic,” Nolan said, almost to himself. Then he opened his car door. “I’ll tell you what, Dr. Cuddy, I’ll talk to you but not here in a parking lot. I have a cancellation tomorrow at 10 am. Come by and we can have this discussion in the appropriate, clinical setting.”
“Absolutely,” she said quickly. “I’ll be there.”
######
Cuddy had only been to a therapist once before, when her mother found out about the brief affair she’d had with her father’s best friend. That was forced on her, deeply humiliating, and completely unnecessary. (The doctor’s conclusion: She was a highly intelligent and impulsive teenage girl who fancied herself way more worldly than she actually was.) For that reason, she’d always had somewhat negative associations with therapy. But she had to push past those. This was for House. Still, something about the look on Nolan’s face when he said, “He didn’t tell you?” made her nervous. Was she somehow part of the reason House left therapy?
She sat in Nolan’s waiting room, staring the bland, generic water colors on the wall, unconsciously jangling her leg. The lighting, the furniture, the art were all designed to soothe-it wasn’t working.
Finally, the receptionist said, “He’ll see you now.”
Nolan greeted her with a handshake and a smile.
She understood, immediately, why House had liked him-well, did, at least. He was distinguished. He had gravitas. But he also wasn’t intimidating. Even with all his academic bearing-that posture, that voice-there was something accessible about him.
“Thank you for coming in,” Nolan said.
“No, thank you for seeing me,” she said.
“How are things going with House?” he asked.
“Fine. I mean, I thought they were going fine. And then I found out that he has been lying to me for the past three months.”
“That must’ve been very upsetting for you.”
She looked at him, cautiously. “It was,” she said.
“It’s difficult to be in a relationship with a man like House, I imagine,” Nolan said.
Cuddy gave a tiny, self-conscious chuckle.
“Am I being psychoanalyzed here?” she said.
“Sorry,” he said, smiling a bit too broadly. “Force of habit.”
“Hey, ask me anything you want,” Cuddy said. “Hopefully we can both get our answers.”
“I assume the living situation with you two is still the same?” Nolan queried. “He’s still living with you but maintaining his apartment?”
She looked at him, a little surprised.
“He told you that?”
“Yes.”
She folded her hands in her lap.
“Um, yes. That’s still our arrangement.”
“Why are you afraid to take the plunge?”
“I have a three-year-old daughter.”
“I know. Rachel. He speaks very highly of her.”
“Yeah, she adores him too.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“He’s a risky proposition.”
“How so?”
“Well, you know him. Former addict. . .”
“No such thing as a former addict,” Nolan corrected. “He’s still an addict.”
Cuddy nodded. “Right. Plus, Anti-social, impatient, angry at the world. Not necessarily the best role model for a 3-year-old girl.”
“So what are you with him?”
The question took her by surprise.
“For the usual reasons a woman is with a man. Because I love him.”
“But not enough to let him permanently move in.”
“We’re taking it slow.”
“You’ve known him for twenty years. How much more time do you need?”
“I guess I’m …scared,” she admitted.
“And he senses that. Senses that you don’t trust him. That you’re dissatisfied with him.”
“I’m not dissatisfied with him!”
“He thinks you are.”
“I still don’t see why that would compel him to stop doing therapy.”
Nolan made direct eye contact with her.
“Because I told him to break up with you.”
There was a brief, shocked silence.
“I’m sorry?” Cuddy said, although she had heard him perfectly.
“It was my professional recommendation to House that he break up with you.”
“But…why?”
“Because you make him feel badly about himself.”
“I . . love him!”
“I believe you do. You also pick at him, constantly. He feels like he’s always having to prove himself to you, to pass some sort of impossible test. It’s not House’s job to convince you that he’s a worthy partner to you.”
Cuddy looked at the floor, felt her face get hot. Some of what Nolan was saying had the ring of truth.
“You don’t know what it’s like being with him,” she explained, feeling defensive. “He doesn’t follow the normal social codes. His brilliance alienates him-always has. Relating to other people is hard for him. It’s almost like he has to be taught how to be in a healthy relationship.”
“Are you his girlfriend or his therapist?”
Cuddy felt like she’d been slapped.
“I’m his girlfriend,” she said.
“Then act like it,” Nolan said.
“So I’m supposed to just let him do whatever he wants, whenever he wants?”
“No,” Nolan said. “If you’re not happy with his behavior, you should break up with him.”
“But I don’t want to break up with him!”
“You tell me that his brilliance alienates him. You tell me that he has to be taught how to be in a healthy relationship. But he told me he was on much steadier ground in his relationship with Stacy Warner. That they felt like equal partners.”
Cuddy tensed.
“He talked about Stacy?” she said.
“I asked him about her,” Nolan said. “He didn’t volunteer the information.”
“It’s not fair to compare the two relationships,” Cuddy said.
“Why not?”
“For one thing, that was before the infarction, before the pills. He’s gotten a lot darker, a lot more isolated since then.”
“I agree.”
“And Stacy didn’t have a child.”
“I agree with that, too.”
“I always have to think of Rachel first.”
“Of course you do.”
She squinted at him.
“So you think that House is an unsuitable partner for me?”
“I think you think he is,” Nolan said.
“You’re twisting my words.”
“No, I’m not. You’re deeply conflicted in your feelings toward him. And he senses that. I think it impedes his progress toward mental health. But, on the other hand, he loves you so much that the mere suggestion of a break up sent him flying out of this office in a rage. So we seem to be at an impasse.”
“You think I’m impeding his mental health?” Cuddy said, shakily.
“In a word, yes. He wants to please you so badly, his whole life is dedicated to pleasing you. You make him feel unstable, inadequate. House, despite all his bravado, is deeply insecure. You add to his insecurities.”
Cuddy nodded wordlessly. She felt drained, sucker-punched.
“Thanks for taking the time to see me,” she said, standing up slowly.
“I can see that I upset you,” Nolan said. “I’m sorry.”
“No,” Cuddy said, in a bit of a daze. “I’m glad I came. I needed to hear this. I had no idea what I was doing to him. I was selfish. I was only thinking about my needs.”
“Well, maybe that’s the first step toward healing,” Nolan said.
She nodded, vaguely, but he could tell that she was lost in thought and hadn’t really heard.
#####
That night, she was waiting for House when he got home, sitting at the kitchen table, in the dark.
“This looks depressing,” he said, with a chuckle, sitting across from her.
“I think we should stop seeing each other,” she blurted out.
His mouth dropped open.
“What?”
“I think we should break up.”
“Cuddy, I already apologized about the Nolan thing. What more do you want me to do?”
“It’s not about that. Well, not entirely. I just think that it’s not fair for me to keep you in limbo like this. You want to move in and I keep stalling.”
“I don’t mind,” he said anxiously. “It’s a big decision. Take all the time you need. I’m happy with the way things are. I don’t need anything more.”
“Yes, you do.”
“I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“You deserve a woman who accepts you as you are, who doesn’t try to change you.”
“Such a creature doesn’t exist,” he said, trying to make light. He stood up, went to her, put his arms around her neck. “You’re the only one who can put up with me.”
She wriggled away. “I’m serious.”
“Cuddy, you’re not making any sense.”
“Stacy Warner split from Mark,” Cuddy said, seemingly out-of-the-blue. “Did you know that?”
House stared at her.
“What? What the fuck does she have to do with any of this?”
“It’s true,” Cuddy said. “She’s living in Hoboken. An hour away. You should contact her.”
In truth, Cuddy had found out about Stacy’s divorce several weeks ago. She’d been trying to find the right time to tell House, but could never quite bring herself to do it. (“Hey honey, good news! The former love of your life is back on the market!”) Now, however, seemed like an excellent time.
“Why the fuck would I want to contact Stacy?” House said. “She has nothing to do with us.”
“I’m saying that you should be with a woman who accepts you, as you are.”
He slumped into another chair, as though he suddenly couldn’t sustain his own weight.
“You accept me. No one knows me like you do-and you still accept me,” he said.
“Not enough,” she said.
“Cuddy, I’m sorry. I screwed up. I promised I wouldn’t lie to you and I did. It was a horrible mistake. Let me fix it. Whatever I did wrong, let me fix it. Just tell me. Please don’t do this.”
“It’s too late, House,” she said, not able to look him in the eye. “It’s already done.”
To be continued…