Chapter 37

The Turn of the Screw

If I wanted something? I wanted him! I ran to my analyst the next day, she saw me on an emergency basis.

"Kenna, your accident and the death of your daughter has triggered something in him. If he doesn't feel, then he doesn't hurt. Feeling numb is easier for him than feeling helpless or out of control, unable to take care of his daughter, unable to stop bad things from happening to you. Unless he gets help, I'm afraid there's not much you can do."

I left my session, went to my office and thought about what she had said when the process server knocked on my door. I looked up, saw the papers in his hand and waved my arms at him. "Oh, noooo. Oh please don't hand me those. Please walk away and tell him you couldn't find me."

"I'm sorry lady. I'm just doing my job." He threw the papers on the desk in front of me and it hit me hard-Greg didn't love me anymore and this was his way of making sure I got the message. The papers were for a formal separation. Since I wasn't an addict, mentally ill or an adulterer, New Jersey law required either an 18 month separation before filing for divorce for abandonment.

I drove home the long way to postpone the inevitable. When I walked through the door he was sitting on the sofa drinking. He turned his head slightly towards the door when I came in but he didn't look at me. I stood there hoping he would say it was all a mistake, but he didn't. I went into the bedroom and pulled down one of my suitcases. As usual, there wasn't much for me to pack. I never seemed to set down roots anywhere I went. I took what I needed and decided he could keep the rest. Grabbing a cab, I fled to the airport and waited for my flight to Merida. Since my contract was up several months before, I had been working month to month at PPTH. I was just about ready to renegotiate my contract, but after I was served the separation papers I told Cuddy I was leaving. She made me promise that if I came back to the States, I'd come back to PPTH. Since I liked the lab and the neurology department, it was easy to agree.

I thought about contesting the separation, but my attorney said it was unlikely to result in saving the marriage since the judge would be forced to grant it after eighteen months of separation.

I told the attorney that if Greg wanted to fly to Merida in three months, we could obtain a divorce in Mexico quickly. Why prolong the inevitable? When it came to property, I also told the attorney that Greg could have anything he wanted in New Jersey, but I wanted everything in Merida and of course, the money before I came into the marriage, and that my business assets would remain mine. Greg's attorney was under the impression that everything in Merida, along with the business and money was my separate property anyway so his client wasn't giving anything up. Greg signed the papers forgetting that I had four blastocytes in Merida and now they were mine. A month after the interlocutory decree was awarded, I had one implanted. I wanted to have a child before I was too old. I didn't care if I was a single mother or not. We had to wait six months after the interlocutory decree was awarded before we could file the final judgment. The divorce would be final in December.

I didn't buy a house in Merida; renting one instead from a very nice Mexican man that someone told me was part of a cartel. It was a two bedroom house with a lot of open patios allowing for a breeze on hot days. It was gorgeous because it was on the wide boulevard of homes and it felt more like being in Europe than a tight Mexican neighborhood. One day I arrived home from my lab and found James Wilson standing on my doorstep two days before my first wedding anniversary. He brought me a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine.

"Thought you might need a friend."

I smiled and let him in. We sat down and he started to pour me a glass of wine.

"No thanks. I don't want a glass. I'll get a bottle of water."

"You sure, this is a great wine...one of the best?"

"No, I'm fine."

"You don't want to drink? You're not pregnant again, are you?"

"I don't know, but I might be. Greg forgot that I had four blastocytes. I had one implanted the other day, but I don't know if it took."

"Kenna, why would you do that? It's not going to win him back."

"I'm not trying to get him back. I wanted to have a baby before we got married and if I don't try soon, I'll be too old for it to take."

"I hope you know what you're doing."

Wilson spent the weekend with me and we had a great time seeing the Mayan ruins. I took him to Chichen Itza, Kahbah and Uxmal. There was no hanky panky, we just spent the time together as good friends and had a great time. When I put him on the plane the next week I was sorry to see him go. Waving goodbye, it hit me that I should have stayed with him; I wouldn't be in so much pain if I had.

I renegotiated my contract with PPTH, but only to supervise the lab and research, not conduct neurosurgery. It was a six month contract with an option to renew for another six months. I monitored most of the lab work from Merida, but I was required to fly and spend a week in Princeton each month. I usually stayed at the Embassy Suites when I made my trips back.

In late September I flew into Princeton to monitor the lab's current progress on one of my pet projects. I stayed for the Founder's party which was being held in the lobby of the hospital. Wilson was at a conference in New York so I went alone. Not having anything in my closet to wear, I purchased an orange-red silk halter top that had a plunging neckline. I combined it with a navy blue chiffon skirt and navy blue shoes.

When I arrived, Greg was at the bar getting a drink. After an hour of mingling; I went upstairs and looked down, watching the crowd, surprised to find that Greg had climbed the stairs to stand by me.

"Friends?" He asked.

"No." I was truthful. I didn't have it in me to be his friend.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Fine, co-workers?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"You look lovely tonight. I can't even see your scar." He continued to suck down the glass of whisky.

I looked at him and couldn't believe he was doing this. "Fuck you. Go find some sycophant who actually cares what you think." I walked off towards the women's restroom. After taking a much needed pee, I opened the stall to find him standing there watching me."Greg, what do you want?" That's when I realized he was really drunk. Wilson had mentioned that Cuddy was concerned over House's drinking, that it was excessive, almost to the point of black-outs.

He was leaning on the counter to keep his balance not saying anything. His eyes bored into me as I washed my hands. I was spooked by the way he looked at my body. It was a familiar look, a look of desire. I shook my head and left the bathroom, but he followed. When we got near a conference room he grabbed me and pulled me inside. I was completely off balance and tried to pull away. He pushed me in and locked the door behind him.

"I just want to talk to you Kenna. I want to tell you how sorry I am, how miserable I am."

I looked around to grab something to use as a weapon when he grabbed me. The anger welled up inside of me so I started beating on him. "We're almost divorced, you aren't my husband, you aren't my lover, you're just an ass to me!"

Greg grabbed me, put his hand inside my halter top, squeezing my tender breast and then kissed me. "Let me just touch you, hold you, be with you tonight."

I pulled away and hauled off and hit him as hard as I could. He went flying but he took me with him. I broke the heel on my shoe and fell tumbling forward into him like a football player tackling the quarterback. House slammed back, hitting the floor and I came down on him knocking the breath out of him. He finally managed to catch his breath. I started to get up and he pulled me back down, smothering me with a kiss, a rather sloppy, drunk kiss. Greg had his hand inside my halter top and his free one started pulling my skirt up. He was rubbing against me, hard as a rock.

"Damn it, you're drunk Greg. Get off of me, let me go!" I didn't want a drunk or sober Greg House touching me.

"Kenna, just this once, let me hold you, let me feel you again."

A part of me kept saying...so what? If he gets you pregnant this way or you're pregnant by insemination...just get pregnant. And then I thought, no, this is so wrong on so many levels. He sensed my hesitation and interpreted it as a "yes."

"Come on Kenna, don't be angry with me, I just can't handle loving and losing anyone as much as I love you. It's too painful when things happen that I can't control."

I couldn't stand his breath, it was whisky mixed with cigars."Greg, I don't care what you want anymore. You can't control me so let me up you jerk."

"I know you care. I know you love me."

"No, Greg, I don't love you…not anymore." I tried to give him a push, but he pinned me forcibly to the floor with his body as I twisted violently around, trying to get him off of me. "I don't want to have sex with you…not tonight." Although secretly I kept thinking that maybe if he brushed his teeth, I could take my temperature and see if I was ovulating. I had mixed feelings…I didn't want sex this way, but I did want a child, desperately.

My head flew up as he was coming in for a kiss and the area around my eyebrow connected forcibly with his forehead causing a terrible pain through my eye and head. I wasn't really trying hard to resist, but I didn't want him to think he could just take me anytime he wanted.

Slightly put off by the head butt, he quickly recovered and fumbled with his zipper, still reaching to pull up my skirt. His hand searched between my legs and felt for my panties. Finding his target, he grabbed and yanked on them. When they didn't budge down my legs, Greg pulled them with all his might and they finally ripped off.

"Jesus, Greg, don't do this. You're drunk, too drunk. You don't want to have sex when you won't remember it tomorrow. Please, just let me go." I was trying to escape but he had taken my wrists and pinned them tightly over my head with his left hand.

"I just want to feel you under me again, I miss it."

"Greg, you're too drunk. You're going to regret doing this tomorrow."

He didn't answer. With his right hand he started groping between my legs to open them. I tried to keep them closed but he wedged his right hip, knee and leg in-between mine.

Looking down at me he hesitated. I should have said no, it probably would have been over if I had just said, no, but I was stunned, so sure that he wouldn't do this and still desperately wanting a child. He continued to fumble and when he found what he wanted he wasted no time mounting me. He entered and started thrusting so fast and hard that I was bouncing back and hitting my head each time on the leg of the desk. It took him less than a minute to come inside me. When he did he yelled out and then collapsed on top of me before slowly rolling onto the floor, zipping himself up. Looking at me with those blue eyes, I could see the confusion on his face as he got up to leave without looking back.

I could feel some pain as I lay on the floor, not sure what I should do. I was stunned and wrapped in a ball, wishing I didn't care so much about him, when I heard someone enter the presentation room next door. I could hear Thirteen talking to someone; it was Chase. They were laughing about something as they turned on the light in the outside office. Then I heard the door open to House's office and the light came on overhead.

"Kenna? What are you doing down there?" Thirteen ran over to me and then saw the torn panties next to me. She turned to Chase and said, "Call security."

I looked at her and shook my head no, "No don't call them. I'll be ok."

"Let me look at you. Kenna, you have bruises all over you, let me call security. Who did this to you?" Thirteen asked.

I shook my head. "Thirteen, let it go...I'll be ok."

Chase said, "You look like you've been sexually assaulted, we need to report this to the police."

"No!"

Thirteen looked at Chase and then me. "At least let me check you out. If you don't, I'm calling the police."

I reluctantly nodded yes knowing that if I didn't, Thirteen would make good on her threat. She told Chase to go back to the party and then took me up to the third floor. We found an exam room in the Infectious Disease Department and she began the examination.

"Kenna you have bruises on your wrists where someone held you, a black eye and bruising on your thighs. I want to do a pelvic exam."

"It's not necessary. I'm ok."

"I'm calling the cops."

I rolled my eyes and spread my legs, scooted to the end of the table and she shook her head. "You have some tearing, not much, but some. I see semen; let me get something to take a sample."

"No! No samples. Just tell me if I'm ok down there, no permanent damage?"

"No permanent damage, you'll be ok."

"Great, then I'm out of here." I put on my skirt and shoes. "Thirteen, I don't want this discussed with anyone, do you understand?"

"No, I don't understand. You need to tell the police, someone raped you and they need to be prosecuted."

"No, it was consensual sex; I wanted it this way...it just got a little too rough."

She didn't buy it but she could see that I was protecting someone and she suspected it was Greg. She hesitated but then asked, "Did House do this to you?"

"No." I tried to sound convincing.

"Then why were you in his office, on his floor?"

"It was the first place we could think of and it was open." I straightened up.

She got out a prescription pad. "Let me give you the morning after pill."

"Not necessary, I'm on birth control." I lied. "Thanks Remy. I appreciate your concern."

"Kenna, are you sure whoever did this to you won't do it again? To someone else?"

"I'm sure. Very sure. Good bye, Remy." And since I was sure Greg wouldn't do it to someone else, I sounded convincing. I pushed through the door, ran down the stairwell and rushed out to the parking lot. I took out my phone to call a cab when Chase walked up.

"Kenna, let me give you a ride to your hotel."

I thought about it and nodded. Chase was kind enough to say nothing all the way to the Embassy Suites. When we arrived, I thanked him and said good night, watching as he drove off into the night.

I just wanted to lie down; I had a huge headache from banging my head on his forehead and the leg of the desk. I took off my dress, put on a gown, crawled up in bed and cried. I knew deep down I could have stopped him if I had really tried, but the fact that he kept going was just too much.