He's leaning against the kitchen counter, a Vicodin already in his hand like armor. You’re standing in the doorway like a ghost, body taut, eyes burning.
He looks up. And just the way you're trembling—he knows. You don’t speak. Not yet.
“You found out.”
Your laugh is sharp, broken. “You slept with her.” No question. Just devastation.
His throat works, but the words die there. You step forward, each movement unstable like your knees might give in.
“One night. That’s all it took to ruin everything. One night at the hospital. You thought you’d just revisit the past while I was waiting for you to come home?”
“It didn’t mean—”
“DON’T YOU DARE.” The scream rips from your chest—raw, unfiltered. It echoes off his walls like thunder. “Don’t you DARE say it didn’t mean anything!”
You’re crying now, sobbing so violently you double over, your palms against your thighs, trying to breathe.
He takes a step toward you.
“Don’t touch me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, you're not. You’re sorry I found out.”
He tries again. “It was a mistake.”
“It was a choice.” You look up, eyes wide, wet, wild with heartbreak. “I gave you everything. I broke every rule to love you. I took you, dark and broken and beautiful, just as you are, and I never asked for more. And you gave her what you wouldn’t give me.”
He flinches.
“You slept with her, House. You slept with her. And I have to wake up tomorrow knowing I’ll never be enough for you.”
“That’s not true—”
"THEN WHY DID YOU DO IT?" Your voice cracks mid-scream, and this time, it takes him down with it.
He grabs the edge of the counter. Like he might collapse too. His knuckles go white. You’re shaking uncontrollably now, sobs echoing off the tiles. And that’s when he breaks.
His voice goes hollow. “Because I hate myself more than I love you.” Silence. It’s somehow worse than yelling. “Because for one night, I wanted to destroy the one thing in my life that wasn’t already ruined. And it worked.”
“It did.” You wipe your face with trembling hands. “Go to hell, House.”
He watches you like a man watching the last thing worth breathing for walk away. “Already there.”