I was hard at work in my office, when the door was flung open. For a moment, I thought it was House. Back on form. Ready to annoy. Ready to amaze. But no. House was gone. I, myself, had driven him to the door.
Someone else was throwing my door open now. And just like House, they went straight to the point. "Did he tell you?"
"Yes," I replied, "and the whole hospital, if I remember rightly."
No laugh. This is serious. I know what the next question will be before she asks it. People come to me to try to understand House, to try to get into his head and his heart. They think I know how. Ha.
"Does he...I mean...was it more than just...?"
I take pity on her then. She can't say the words. Neither could he. Maybe they are perfectly matched.
"Yes. In his mind, he created who he wanted to be. He wanted to be someone who was able to love you."
She falls to the chair he used to casually throw himself over. "Then he does...I do..."
Again the pity. "Yes. He will never say it, but he does. You are afraid, but you do. He's tried to change for you. Before all this, he went for counselling. After the night, he tried to be adult. Even in that state, it meant something."
Only one question left now, I can tell.
"What now?"
"That's up to you. The ball's in your court. Whatever you do, it will be hard. But maybe, one way, there is a chance of something more. House will be House, but he may show you something more. Something you need as much as he does."
She leaves quietly. She is thinking, absorbing, deciding. I turn back to my paperwork. My bit is done. It's up to her now. I just tell people what they already know. They must decide what to do with it. After all, I'm just an oncologist.