Coming Home

How the fuck did I end up here... in her office? Why was the universe playing some damned joke on me? Rae was not a good person for me. I think that was clear to everyone, but the fucking universe would not let her leave me alone for good.

"I can't just leave, Martinez. I have to be here or I don't get to tour anymore. Brian fucking flew me across the country for this shit." I stared her down, anger coursing through my body. This woman had turned down my love. She had crushed my heart.

Her eyes flashed. "I cannot interview you. This is a major conflict of interest. Let me find another social worker for you." She quickly walked away from me. I was surprised she was able to move so fast after losing a leg. She didn't even look any different from when she had both of them.

The door to her office close and I immediately picked up my phone. I was going to fucking murder Brian. The phone rang and rang and finally clicked over to indicate he had picked up.

"Matt, you're supposed to be meeting with a social worker." I could hear the tension in his voice. "I knew I should have fucking gone with you."

"You're lucky you didn't or you would be dead. Rae Martinez, my ex-wife, is my social worker. You fucking did this shit on purpose."

Brian was silent on the other end. "I would never ever, ever let you meet up with that crazy bitch again. I would never let her within a thousand feet of you. Had I known she was working in that office, I would have sent you somewhere else."

"I'm coming back to the hotel, Brian. This is bullshit. We could have just found someone Huntington Beach."

"Someone who understands the way the former soldier's brain works? I fucking doubt it."

"So what the fuck am I supposed to do, Brian? I do NOT want to talk to her." I closed my eyes, still unable to process that this shit was actually my life. Why was the universe fucking with me?

"I don't really want to talk to you either, Sanders." Rae grabbed my phone and closed it. "You're stuck with me for the next hour since my partners are assholes." She motioned for me to sit down.

"Rae, we aren't doing this."

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Matt, we are. Just answer my questions, and I will find you someone in California. Just... let's get through this."

I had never seen her calm down this fast before, so I sat down and waited for her questions to begin. They were fairly benign questions about how I slept, how I ate, etc. These were the types of questions that would determine my base line. A base line basically established if you were normal or if you needed help or not.

"So, what are we thinking?" I asked when she typed in my last answer.

"You need to talk to someone. Not me. You need someone who is going to help you, Matt. Normally, this would be my case, but I do not live in California, and I will never work with you again. This is the address for Dr. Miller. He's a veteran and specializes in Special Forces," she said and handed me a card. "Now, please get out of my office."

I stood up and left, not even bothering to thank her. This was our relationship now. It took us six years to see each other again, and it just had to be because I needed to see someone. Rae had always known too much about me, but this was ridiculous. I didn't want her to know anything about me anymore. I could never be with her again.

Notes

I know, I know. It's short, but these next chapters will be short because we need to get to the meat of this story.