Chapter 2: I won't believe it. I can't
Wilson's POV during and post his conversations with House in Dying Changes Everything. This is meant to be a companion piece He should have known better.
I should be mad. But I don't have enough energy for that, not anymore. I just want to get out of here and be free of this place and House forever. But House is standing in my office telling me he is sorry and he actually looks sincere about it. But I won't believe it. I can't. He can't be sorry. How could he be? It's what he wanted after all: her out of my life and me as miserable as he is. Even so, I tell House what I think he wants to hear, that I don't blame him for Amber's death. It's the truth to a certain degree. The logical part of me knows he really can't be blamed for her death, but my heart is not so sure. He looks so relieved, like that is all it takes to make things right again. But it isn't enough. Everything has gone too far.
Then he asks if we are all right. All right? How could we ever be all right again? He says he knows I am not ok, but maybe he could help. And he looks like he means it. But he doesn't mean it. He can't, because he is a selfish bastard who can only spread misery and I tell him so. I don't even bother raising my voice, because I am not mad. I am just telling the truth. I have to believe that, especially when I tell him we are not friends and that I'm not sure we ever were. I expect him to come back with some sharp and hateful response, but he doesn't. He just stands there looking at me, like some lost child. The only thing I can do is to pick up my box and leave. I can't look back. I can't think about the hurt in his eyes. I have to believe he is the uncaring bastard that I said he is. Because if I don't, that would mean that the real bastard is me.