May 15

Wilson's phone rang. It was Sam. He groaned.

"Hello?"

"Hi, James, it's me."

"Hi, Sam. How's your day?"

He looked at his paperwork while she went through her brief description, nodding along, forgetting she couldn't see him.

"Are you gonna come over tonight?" she asked finally. "I know you've been really busy with work, but it's been awhile since..."

"Yeah, I know," Wilson said. "I've just got some paperwork to finish, but I'll definitely be over later. I'll bring a pizza. How's that sound?"

"Sounds great. I love you, James."

"You too," he responded, pinching the bridge of his nose. He snapped the phone shut and returned to his paperwork.

He kissed her. He sucked on her ears, he played with her breasts, he did everything he always did. But his heart wasn't in it.

He was determined not to punish her for this. It wasn't her fault. She hadn't done anything wrong. Why should she suffer just because he was hung up on some stupid vision that wouldn't even come true anyway?

But she noticed.

"James, what's wrong?" she asked, pulling back. "You've been so quiet tonight. What's the matter?"

Wilson shrugged. "I don't know. I want to be with you. I guess I'm just...not in the mood."

"No, it's more than that," Sam pressed, shaking her head. "It's not just tonight. The last few weeks. You've been distant. You're here, but you're not here."

"I don't know," Wilson repeated.

Sam sighed and sat back against the couch. "Is this about your flash-forward? You're remembering yourself kissing that other woman and you're thinking that it's her you're meant to be with, and not me?"

"That's not fair," Wilson said. "I didn't ask for the flash-forward. I want to still be with you, six months from now and six years from now. I don't want to be kissing anyone else, even if it is-" he cut himself off, but the damage had been done.

"Even if it is who?" Sam asked, looking sternly at him. "James, is there something you haven't told me? Do you know the person you're kissing? Have you met her since the blackout?"

"No!" Wilson insisted, putting his hands up in defense and shaking his head. But he'd never been a good liar.

"That's it, isn't it?" Sam looked like she was deflating. "There's someone else. You've met this other woman, you've seen yourself kissing her, and you're thinking it's fate or something and she's the one you're meant to be with, not me."

"Sam, it's not what you think," Wilson insisted, taking her hand.

She pulled away. "What's the point? In my flash-forward, I was alone. I was sitting in my room, reading. You were with someone."

"This isn't what I wanted. Sam, look at me, it's you I want to be with."

She did look at him. She looked at his eyes, his pleading eyes.

"James, I believe that a part of you wants to be with me. But obviously this other woman has taken ahold of your mind." She got up off the couch. "Who knows? Maybe October 29th will come and go, and you'll realize that it's me you want all along. But until then, you should just go and satisfy your curiosity." She handed him his coat.

He stared at her. "You're dumping me?"

"James, I can't be with you if you're halfway out the door, thinking of somebody else."

Wilson took his coat and left the apartment. He slammed the door behind him. Not mad at Sam, mad at himself, mad at House, mad at the world. At the stupid flash-forward that wouldn't even come true whether he wanted it to or not. Now he'd just be alone.

Wilson slammed the condo door.

"I thought you were spending the night with Sam," House greeted from the couch.

"She dumped me," Wilson's hurt, indignant voice explained.

"Why?" House asked, watching Wilson sit down on the couch next to him.

"Why do you think?"

"She found out you sing Taylor Swift in the shower?"

"Because of the flash-forward," Wilson said, glaring at House even though he knew it wasn't his fault.

"Oh." Then House looked at Wilson. "Wait, you told her?"

"Not that it was you. I told her I was kissing someone that...wasn't her and then I let her go ahead and believe it was just some woman that I haven't met yet."

"Okay. Well since you're here, I'm kinda hungry, you could-"

"-House," Wilson interrupted, catching his eye. "Don't you think it's time we talked about this?"

"No."

"I think we should," Wilson insisted.

"Fine." House sighed. "We were kissing. There. I've said it. We've talked about it. Hand me the phone, I'll call for some Chinese food."

"We weren't just kissing, House," Wilson pressed. "We were...together. We were a couple."

"Unless we were just cheating on our significant others with each other."

"House, tell me. Us...together...a couple...is that something...that you want?" Wilson's heart raced now that he'd finally asked the question he'd wondered about so long. The question that he would not be able to answer himself were it asked to him. He felt his heart beating in his chest and watched the diagnostician, waiting for his answer.

House didn't look at him. He sighed. "What difference does it make? We both know it's not gonna happen. All these people who say the flash-forwards are gonna come true have no idea what they're talking about. I had a patient, an old woman, she swore she had a flash-forward. She told me about it. Nine hours later she was dead. No flash-forward for her. They're not real, Wilson."

"But if it could come true," Wilson continued, looking at House's face, waiting for him to look up and make eye contact. "Would you want it to?"

"I don't know!"

They finally looked at each other.

"I don't know," House repeated, carefully gauging Wilson's reaction. House's hand was on his thigh, ready to get off the couch and leave should the need arise.

Wilson shrugged and looked at the floor. "I don't know either." It was almost a whisper.

House leaned back and rubbed his leg. "We're done talking about his," he stated.

Wilson sighed and nodded. Enough was enough.