Author: fallen_arazil, aka Djinn
Characters: Wilson/Wife #1
Word Count: ~570
50_darkfics Prompt: 059.Destruction
Warnings: well, dark, duh. Also, het.
Disclaimer: Is there any gay sex on House? Then I still don't own it. But if I ever do, boy howdy!
Author's Notes: I was trying to work on 3corners, and this came out instead. Oops. It's not going to work with the fourth chapter, but I like it too much to get rid of it, so I'm posting it. It's unbeta'd (didn't want to bother you, river) and I'm not posting it to the comms since it's short and ... well, het. So, flist ppl, feel special. This is sort of in the 3corners uni, so let's call it a 3corners analog.
In April, Amelia called to tell him that she was getting remarried.
He could say without any real equivocation that he had loved Amelia when he married her. They had met rather circuitously; she was a friend of the sister of the girl he had been dating at the time, a nursing student named Sara. That was, in fact, how she had been introduced to him--as Vicky's friend Amelia. She was clearly someone with whom Sara believed he should not be concerned, but the minute he met Amelia, Wilson could feel her wanting him, and nothing turned Wilson on quite as much as being wanted.
He'd made some excuse to be alone with her, walking her to her car, maybe. While they were there he'd whispered in her ear that she was amazing and beautiful and he couldn't keep his eyes off her. It should have made her uncomfortable, he was there with his girlfriend, for Christ's sake, but instead she had all but melted into him. She was five years younger than him, only a freshman at some local community college, but everything about her had the air of a girl who was just waiting to be swept away from that, whose ambition was to be a wife, not an individual.
Wilson strung Sara along for three more weeks or so, and by the time they actually split, he'd been spending almost every night in Amelia's dorm room. Amelia hadn't been a virgin, but she'd been inexperienced enough that Wilson had felt like he was defiling something every time they slept together, and there was no reason that should have made the whole thing more exciting, but it did.
Wilson doesn't think he's a bad person, except when he actually thinks about it, and then he realizes that, where women are concerned, he's practically a monster. He'd slept with five other women by the time he and Amelia got divorced, but she'd only known about two. She'd been so, so calm when she handed him the papers, much more mature than he would have given her credit for. Two weeks after the divorce was finalized, she called to tell him she was going back to college, and he offered to buy her dinner to celebrate. His lawyer had told him not to speak to her for a while, and no doubt hers had said the same, but he bought her dinner and then they went back to their house, which was now her house, and had sex up against the living room wall, and then again, sprawled out across the flowered bedspread Amelia had picked out.
She cried when he was leaving, her calm, mature acceptance shattered, but did nothing to suggest he should stay.
Wilson has never been very good with true sincerity. He can make other people believe him, but the one person he's never been able to convince is himself, and when he fucked Amelia that last time he'd been telling her I'm sorry and I did love you and This is all I know how to give you, and her tears made him think that maybe she understood. He told her this is my fault with the slide of his tongue inside her cunt and the bite of his fingers on her hips, and when he left, he hoped she hated him half as much as he hated himself, and knew that she didn't.