"I know that. I do," Cuddy murmured. She lifted her hands in a helpless little wave before letting them drop to the arms of the chair again. "It's just.... It's exhausting. It's completely and utterly exhausting to always have to watch everything I say or do, to never know how he's going to react from one moment to the next. I feel like I have to keep all my feelings bottled up inside because they're going to make him angry or depressed. Only I can't because no one can keep everything inside."

Cuddy pushed up from her chair suddenly, or as suddenly as she could maneuver her bulk out of the chair. She turned away and took a few steps, needing a moment to compose herself. She wiped her hand harshly over her eyes and sniffed a couple of times. She refused to lose control. Tears weren't going to help anything and she hadn't come here today to make things worse. Besides, if she needed to cry, she could do it when she got home. It wasn't like there'd be anyone there to be bothered by it.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. She took another deep breath before she turned back to face Megan and House, her expression tightly controlled. "This is supposed to be about House, not me. And if you think writing a letter will help, then I'll do it." She wasn't sure she'd want to be around when House read the letter but she supposed she have to let him, and Megan, make that decision.