Right now, Martin’s
wife didn’t matter to him, as little as he wanted to admit it. He needed to
handle whatever it was that the Director wanted of him, and he had to do that
now. Martin lifted his head from the desk and stood, wondering how things would
have been if he hadn’t received another bomb of a stress on top of his already
stressful life. It was possible that if the divorce hadn’t come up, he could
have improved his dropping performance, rather than worsening it.
Martin’s
heart was no longer racing when he left his office, finally able to put his
fears away. He knew that to make the best of the cards he was handed; he would
need to go with the flow and do what he could. The first step was saving his
job. Though, even with this in mind, he expected nothing but the worst.
The
hallways of the bureau's main building were busier than usual that morning.
Martin suffered through the act of smiling and greeting his colleagues when he
passed, even though he was about to break down. He believed that he tricked
them all into believing nothing was the matter; a strange tradition amongst
Americans. Even though he grew up with it, there were days where he just wanted
to tell people he was having a bad day. Instead there was social stigma around
making people ‘feel bad’ about your problems. Right.
His
thoughts moved back to his meeting with the Director. Assuming they were
thinking alike- as they often had in the past- Martin would have plenty of time
to get away and breathe for a while. More than anything, he needed a break.
Even if he didn’t lose his job in the next twenty minutes, he would put his
pride and honor on the line, to get some time off. The thought of needing to
beg for such a small thing made his stomach churn.
It wasn’t
the first time that morning where Martin became lost in his thoughts. When he
came to, he took a step back, slamming into the wall behind him. Confusion
overwhelmed him for a moment as he came back to reality, not at first
recognizing the tall, oaken doors in front of him. His mind settled when he
realized that he was at the Director’s office, having made it there on
autopilot. Martin passed through the open doors and moved into the department.
He turned
to a corner to find Stella, the woman who had called him a few minutes back
asking him to meet the Director. She didn’t notice him at first, as she was
scribbling on a paper she had at the desk. she was rather concentrated about
doing so. He felt bad about interrupting her, but as he got a little closer,
she looked up smiled warmly. He closed the distance between them simultaneously
displaying a forced smile and leaned on the desk with his arms crossed.
In the
brief lapse of time that he took to reach the desk, the woman looked down at
her papers. When she looked back up, her eyes squinted like she’d been
disturbed from a deep thought. It was a strange thing to Martin, she seemed to
have been ready to speak with him moments before. Before she spoke, she opened
her mouth and waited, trying to find the words to say it.
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