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In their couple months of marriage, there has not been a single instance of Reim choosing to retire to bed before Sharon.
Their days would pass with varying synchrony - they could spend hours locked in the same room or not share a single meal. Regardless, they would come together in the study during the evening. Sharon would ostentatiously yawn over her cup of tea with Reim not even having touched his, as he was too engrossed in some self-assigned task of the day. Although he had no need or reason to stay up working late, as was the case when Pandora was still around, this habit of his had persevered. After being officially laid off, he had thrown himself into an array of passion projects, such as translating old texts from the late Duke Barma’s library.
All of this he claimed to enjoy, but still acted as if he was agitated or frustrated by it. Sharon knew he only acted this way because he deeply cared about preserving his former master’s legacy. She found great amusement in how Reim failed to realize his own pattern of behavior with such matters, unnecessarily upset at things he was happy to do.
No matter how focused he was though, whenever she’d mention wanting to go to bed soon, Reim would immediately take it as a cue to quickly wrap up whatever he was doing. Sharon truthfully had never meant it this way and she wouldn’t have minded if Reim joined her later into the night. There was no point to them turning to sleep at the same time anyway, since they would simply change wordlessly into their night clothes while barely looking at each other. No affection was shared between them, not even out of marital obligation.
First one to go to sleep, Sharon was the first one to awake in the morning as well. Her bad sleep patterns seemed to have gotten worse with time and she stubbornly insisted it’s her aging that’s to blame.
As a child, especially after her mother’s death, she’d do her best to hide such problems from the maids, pretending to still be asleep when they’d come into her room following each sunrise. Now as well, when she’d be taken out of slumber prematurely, she’d simply roll to her side and hope Reim would not suspect anything. For the most part, he didn’t - or he never voiced any suspicions he might have had, at least.
Sometimes in the morning, while staring blankly at the wall ahead of her, she wondered how or why Reim never questioned her. Much like in the past, she could not shake the sense that her lack of sleep was written out in obvious signs. She felt herself becoming so tense the moment she’d hear her husband wake up. She had days on which she would shudder in surprise at the first words he would speak to her. Her hands shook before she had her first cup of tea.
When she had tied herself to Reim, Sharon was sure she was not marrying an unintelligent man. He was not so unobservant as to not notice these things. No, his lack of acknowledgement of Sharon’s behavior was not the result of him being blind to it, but rather a deliberate choice to ignore it.
Some ill-intentioned people, mainly specific members of the Baskerville household, liked to refer to Reim and Sharon’s marriage as one of convenience. Behind closed doors, they probably called it a sham, gossiping about how clear their lack of satisfaction was and how the ghosts of their past were the only thing keeping them together. That last part might have held some truth, but Sharon would not consider it a sufficient summary of their relationship. If anything, it was a gross oversimplification.
They may have been companions brought together by little more than shared circumstances and grief, but that is precisely why Sharon knew Reim was the only person she could entrust her life with. There was no one left who they could trust as much as each other. Even so, Sharon loved Reim’s company, valuing him greatly as an ally and a friend.
But Reim was also committed to making them work, in the traditional sense. A main part of that for him was not acknowledging the fact that they were not fit to coexist in such a way.
Sharon was proud to have Reim as her husband in title and in peaceful domesticity, but she could never see them as a household built on passion. They were a union based on devotion, but not on romance, nothing like those novels she used to adore told her to strive for. Though maybe Reim genuinely believed this could have been changed, that they could work towards achieving some romantic ideal, Sharon knew at her core she was just not fit for that life. To force herself into it would be suffocating and claustrophobic, which were already two sensations she was familiar with whenever she felt herself inching closer to the edge of the bed at night.
Her many hours of staring into the wall have failed to provide Sharon with a resolution to this problem.
The sun had just come up when Reim stirred awake.
“Good morning, Sharon.” He mumbled, clearly struggling to artificially insert some pep into his speech. He put a gentle hand on her upper arm. “Are you awake yet?”
“Yes…” She whispered, self-conscious of how hoarse her voice sounded then. “Good morning, Reim.”
In the few minutes of silence that followed the lackluster exchange, Reim had not moved his hand.
“Do you have any plans for today?” Sharon tried.
“Spring is coming soon… I might work on building a bird-house to put up in the coming weeks.”
“That sounds like a great plan. I miss waking up to the sound of birds chirping in the garden.”
“I should start on it right away then.”
He withdrew his hand only then, but not fully leaving her personal space.
He craned his neck to kiss Sharon on the cheek, when she was still turned away from him. The way in which he had to lean down to achieve this put some strain on his back and he narrowly missed his target, lips barely brushing against his wife’s face. She refused to help him by leaning into him.
“Come join me in the study whenever you feel inclined to.” He spoke softly, finishing with an awkward attempt to brush her hair off her forehead. He only seemed to push it into her eyes more.
After that he put on his slippers, adjusted the covers so that Sharon would lay underneath them fully and stepped out of the room then. Finally, her muscles relaxed when she heard the click of the door.
Taking one last deep breath before she got up to make breakfast for two, she sniffled pathetically into her sleeve while preparing for another performance on this hostile stage that they had built.