Late at night, Wilson found himself seated in front of his bar table alone. He was having a couple of shot with his scotch feeling depressed like the night Amber died. A lot of things come and go in his mind; cancer patients, the cancer conference, House and Cuddy. With the bar lamp, one could tell he has been crying and all I could say was that he was drunk and a mess. Pitt’s question came into his mind like a bullet and it nearly killed him. He didn’t expect himself to just stand there and say nothing, leaving his friend’s doctor suspicious.
Pitt: Are you?
Wilson: Am I?
He asked himself...
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