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A sigh escaped the brunette woman. Her brown eyes were downcast on the bed beneath her. Crème sheets crumpled up and ruined by several sleepless nights.
Randy had yet to finish getting ready for bed. All he was doing was brushing his teeth and talking to Sharon about whatever happened at work today. She could hear him struggle to talk with foamed up toothpaste in his mouth.
It felt like, what, 10 minutes until he finished? In reality it was only 2 before Randy walked out their conjoined bathroom and looked at her with a perplexed expression.
“What’s the matter?” His voice cut through her fuzzy thoughts like a speeding bullet. Her attention immediately snapped up to him. Brown eyes connected to dark black eyes. Sharon’s eyes will glossy, filled with tears threatening to boil over.
“N-nothing, Randy. I’m just tired…” Sharon shuffled underneath the covers, pulling them up to her chest. Randy however, in his “everlasting” concern, sat down by her feet, tapping them with the back of his hand to signal for her to move. She did.
“Don’t lie, Shar-bear, you know I can tell.” Randy smiled at her, exposing his still pastel yellow teeth. When she didn’t smile back however, he knew something was wrong. “Hey, hey… What’s wrong? Tell me, please. Am I not satisfying you in bed? I can go whatever speed you want! Want more fore-“
“Stop.” Sharon cut him off, putting her hand up. She wasn’t staring at him, only at the design on his pajamas. It was a cute moon and star design- the pajamas she picked out for him.
“I’m… not happy, Randy. I think I’m- oh god- I think I’m depressed.” Now, tears spilled out, trailing down soft cheeks, just cleaned with face wash. His eyebrows raised to the roof, his lips staying in a thin line. Randy’s dark eyes looked to the floor, then back to Sharon, then to the floor again. He was thinking of a response, they were together long enough that she knew.
“Oh.”
“That’s all you have to say? Oh?” She said in an almost accusing tone. Her sadness slowly turning to frustration, which would turn into anger.
“NO- No. I mean… I’m sorry, Sharon. I know how you feel.” Randy turned his body to Sharon, slowly crawling over to her. His calloused hand slowly went to her hairline, brushing away stray hairs and placing them behind her ears. She forgot just how delicate he could be. Those years felt so far behind them.
“I feel like an independent parent, Randy. And- and I feel like a coward. Nobody helps me.” Sharon almost felt bad about saying these things to him. She was basically saying that he didn’t help her. She was raising 3 children. Randy was never ready for marriage, or children, or domestic life or-
“I’m sorry.” Huh? He’s sorry? For real? Not just some pity sorry?
“I’m sorry for being a poor husband. For not helping out more, I know being a stay at home mom is hard. I’m sorry for depriving you of the… things you want- need.” His hand cupped her cheek, rubbing the soft skin with his thumb. Sharon would be lying if she said she wasn’t leaning into the touch.
“I don’t know what to say, Randy. I think we need help.” For the second time that night, the love of Randy’s life looked him in the eyes. Her eyebrows were furrowed together in a bundle of confusion, sadness, frustration, and whatever other emotions lie behind that face that he loved so dearly.
“Okay. That’s okay, we’re okay. First thing tomorrow, we’ll go get some help. We’ll get through this. As a family. I love you, Sharon. I really do.” Randy’s arms snaked down to her waist, pulling her into his chest. He was only a couple inches taller than her, she fit like a puzzle piece into him. Her head fit perfectly into the nook of his neck.
His hand landed in her short brown hair, running his fingers through it and brushing out any tangled bits. Her hands simply traced the stitching on his clothes, absentmindedly.
“I love you too. I’m sorry for putting you through this.” The woman huffed.
Randy shook his head, like she could see it. After a moment of silence, he caught his mistake and spoke. “No, this is my job. For better or for worse right?”
“You remember?” She looked up at him, a genuinely surprised look on her face.
“Of course! Gawl, Sharon, I’m not some deadbeat husband who doesn’t even remember his own vows!” He laughed- actually, he did forget them- but that’s not what Sharon needed to hear right now.
Sharon looked at him lovingly, like how she did when he first proposed to her or when he confessed his love for her. Delicate hands cupped his face. “Sharon?” Randy asked, his eyebrows raised questioningly.
“Yeah, Randy?”
“You’re as beautiful as the day I met you.”
With those words exiting his mouth, she leaned up and kissed him. A tender, oh so loving kiss. His hands left her back and traveled her body, caressing her hips and squeezing her thighs. Sharon’s hands remained on his face, feeling his growing stubble. It was prickly on her palms. They stayed like that for a while, basking in each other's presence, the last time Sharon remembered doing this was on their honeymoon.
She was the first to pull away, brown eyes not filled with tears, but with love. Randy shut off the lights and held his wife in his arms.
“Let’s get married. Like how you wanted.” Randy whispered. Sharon smiled to herself.
And with that, the Marsh’s were born again. Tomorrow they would get help. When they scrape together the money, they would get married again. A yellowing bridal gown would be worn, a dark blue suit that complimented Randy’s eyes would be worn, and everyone in South Park would be invited.
Sharon needed this. Randy needed this. They both needed this.