Cuddy: You took Vicodin. When you came to my hospital room that night, you were stoned.
House: How did you know?
Cuddy: How did I not know? How did I make myself forget for months that you’re an addict? My subconscious was trying to tell me you could never get through this without drugs.
House: It was a one-time thing.
Cuddy: It’s not about the pills, House. It’s about what they mean.
House: I was scared because I thought my girlfriend might die.
Cuddy: No. You don’t take Vicodin because you’re scared. You take it so you won’t feel pain. Everything you’ve ever done is to avoid pain — drugs, sarcasm… Keeping everybody at arm’s length so no one can hurt you.
House: As opposed to everyone else in the world who goes looking for pain like it’s buried treasure?
Cuddy: Pain happens when you care. Y-you can’t love someone without making yourself open to their problems, their fears. And you’re not willing to do that.
House: I ca–I came to be with you.
Cuddy: But you weren’t with me, not really.
House: I wanted to be.
Cuddy: That’s not enough.
House: I can do better.
Cuddy: I don’t think you can. You’ll choose yourself over everybody else over and over again, because that’s just who you are. I’m sorry.
House: No. No, no, no. Don’t. Don’t.
Cuddy: I thought I could do this.
House: Don’t. Please don’t.
Cuddy: Goodbye, House.