If there was one thing House had taught Cameron, it was that appearances could be deceiving.
She knew what Cuddy was going through. She knew there was a fine line between coping and becoming mentally decimated; and she knew the line was the door to an inescapable pit.
But she didn't know which side of the line Cuddy was on. Not like they had been spending much time together; Cameron had a lot on her plate. Until she chose replacements for Taub, Adams, and Lim; she only had one doctor on her team. Between cases and interviews, she didn't have a lot of spare time. Even mourning House needed a schedule.
She usually got it done at bedtime. Maybe failing to do so last night was the reason she felt more stifled today... Hopefully putting everything aside for two hours to go to the movies with friends, would lift her spirits up to low.
The customers had tracked snow and slush past the mat. Navigating through the yuck, she retrieved a basket and made it through the interior doors, into the store itself. Foreman was right by the doors, stocking the bakery shelves. Their eyes locked and he gave a perfunctory nod of greeting. She ignored it and walked past him, content to look elsewhere.
She wasn't here to get back together with him.
She knew he was scowling. The man didn't have another facial expression. House smiled more than Foreman did.
Emerging from the store seventeen minutes later with her shopping bags, Cameron began to cross the slippery parking lot. Halfway between the store and her vehicle, she found herself sliding across a patch of ice. Before she could cause herself to fall by trying to keep her balance, a man was there, steadying her. Stepping off onto clean cement, she raised her eyes to his—and found herself trying not to cry.
His eyes were blue. It sounded trivial, but it wasn't. The eyes of this total stranger evoked memories they didn't share, feelings he didn't have. She had to force herself to thank him. And when he asked if she was okay, it was a lie to say yes. He carried on with his day, probably feeling really good about helping the woman who had almost spilled her groceries under the dark red Honda. He would remember her until he was sad again, and she would remember him for the rest of her life. Dumping the shopping bags into the passenger seat, Cameron wept.
She could feel the empty Vicodin bottle resting against her hip. She took it from its cozy pocket and let her thumb brush reverently over Wilson's name.
Stupid, how it made her feel better. But it did. She waited for her vision to clear before driving through the slick, bustling parking lot and eking out onto the slick, bustling road. And with every house she passed, she felt herself falling deeper and deeper into the pit.