Look Me in The Eyes (Keeping an Eye on Her Book 2) by S. B. Sheeran Page A
Authors: S. B. Sheeran
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telling me how I should grief, you don’t get to do that.” She took a breath before continuing. “I get that these sessions are mandated and I have to come here or risk losing my job, and to be honest I wouldn’t mind them so much if you would stop telling me how to grief and what’s best for me. I am not a crier so torrents of tears to show I am grieving will never happen. I don’t want to speak to Lampard because I am not ready for that and I might not be ready any time soon. I lost my best friend! My best friend, the only one I had in the world. Forget the grief therapy for a second; I don’t even know how to move forward. The one thing I do know is that being strapped to a desk doing paperwork and coming here for two hours so often is making me suicidal.”
“I understand-“
“No! You don’t!” Martinez cut her off. “I get that your intentions are pure and you truly want to help, but tell me how I should handle grief is not working. I want to go back to work, and trust me I will be forced to deal with his absence there. Keeping me away from that is not helping. I have no problem continuing our sessions, but I need to go back to work. So rubber stamp me if you must and let me go.”
With that out Martinez took a deep breath, and upon letting it go realized how much better she felt. Realizing also that in years that was the most she had ever said in one single go.
Martha’s Cheshire smile changed to a genuine grin as the old woman signed the form Martinez demanded she did. “You come back to see me at least once per week from now on until I say otherwise.”
“Deal!” Martinez quickly agreed though she had no intentions of keeping up that side of the bargain. Anything else Martha was attempting to tell her went out the window as all she could focus on was the paper, like a hungry dog waiting on a bone.
“Once per week, Detective,” Martha said as she handed Martinez her evaluation form and watched as she walked out with a smile.
Martinez did not expect anybody to be back from the funeral yet, but she would just leave the form on the Chief’s desk and report for work in the morning. With any luck there would be lots to do, to prevent her from missing Connelly too much.
“Martinez!” She heard the chief’s voice as she placed the letter on his desk.
“Hi, Sir. Ahhm, just putting my psych evaluation paper here for you to read later.” She said and nervously wiped her hands on her pants.
“We missed you at the funeral today,” he said.
“No, I was there. I was just not in the mood for the condolences, hugs and tears.”
“Yes, they can be very depressing.” He stared at her with concern. “So you ready to work again?”
“Yes Sir. I will start first thing in the morning.”
The chief gave her the once over and then let her get away from his burning stare. She knew he was the one man on the face of the earth she could not bullshit. He could see right through her every time. She also knew that he was aware she was not ok, but need to work to get there.
“See you tomorrow,” Martinez said and went home with a smile on her face and heaviness in her heart.
Tomorrow would be her first day without Connelly, and she knew it would be hard.
* * *
It was a couple minutes before six when her cell phone rang. Martinez ignored it the first time forgetting for a minute that she was back on active duty. When it rang the second time, the shrill sound dispelled her amnesia and she bolted out of bed to grab the phone.
“Martinez,” she answered and half expected to hear Connelly’s peppy voice on the other end, but was sorely disappointed when Manning’s deep voice told her she had to haul her butt out of bed. Manning was a cool enough guy, and they had worked pretty well together over the last seven years, except for the times he had tried to make her feel small because she was a woman. She kept her distance from him as much as was
“I understand-“
“No! You don’t!” Martinez cut her off. “I get that your intentions are pure and you truly want to help, but tell me how I should handle grief is not working. I want to go back to work, and trust me I will be forced to deal with his absence there. Keeping me away from that is not helping. I have no problem continuing our sessions, but I need to go back to work. So rubber stamp me if you must and let me go.”
With that out Martinez took a deep breath, and upon letting it go realized how much better she felt. Realizing also that in years that was the most she had ever said in one single go.
Martha’s Cheshire smile changed to a genuine grin as the old woman signed the form Martinez demanded she did. “You come back to see me at least once per week from now on until I say otherwise.”
“Deal!” Martinez quickly agreed though she had no intentions of keeping up that side of the bargain. Anything else Martha was attempting to tell her went out the window as all she could focus on was the paper, like a hungry dog waiting on a bone.
“Once per week, Detective,” Martha said as she handed Martinez her evaluation form and watched as she walked out with a smile.
Martinez did not expect anybody to be back from the funeral yet, but she would just leave the form on the Chief’s desk and report for work in the morning. With any luck there would be lots to do, to prevent her from missing Connelly too much.
“Martinez!” She heard the chief’s voice as she placed the letter on his desk.
“Hi, Sir. Ahhm, just putting my psych evaluation paper here for you to read later.” She said and nervously wiped her hands on her pants.
“We missed you at the funeral today,” he said.
“No, I was there. I was just not in the mood for the condolences, hugs and tears.”
“Yes, they can be very depressing.” He stared at her with concern. “So you ready to work again?”
“Yes Sir. I will start first thing in the morning.”
The chief gave her the once over and then let her get away from his burning stare. She knew he was the one man on the face of the earth she could not bullshit. He could see right through her every time. She also knew that he was aware she was not ok, but need to work to get there.
“See you tomorrow,” Martinez said and went home with a smile on her face and heaviness in her heart.
Tomorrow would be her first day without Connelly, and she knew it would be hard.
* * *
It was a couple minutes before six when her cell phone rang. Martinez ignored it the first time forgetting for a minute that she was back on active duty. When it rang the second time, the shrill sound dispelled her amnesia and she bolted out of bed to grab the phone.
“Martinez,” she answered and half expected to hear Connelly’s peppy voice on the other end, but was sorely disappointed when Manning’s deep voice told her she had to haul her butt out of bed. Manning was a cool enough guy, and they had worked pretty well together over the last seven years, except for the times he had tried to make her feel small because she was a woman. She kept her distance from him as much as was
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