Chapter Author:

Blazelove

Once the bus had dropped us off, I sprinted inside, anxious and panicking. I threw my keys at the coffee table, missing by a long shot. They ended up sliding across it, knocking off Little Eric's empty sippy cup. Little Eric stumbled in after me, bewildered.

"Mommy, you're so fast!" he chuckled as I paced towards Eric's office, where our computer was. It was a piece of shit, but it did have internet. I swung open the door, coughing as the room's dust filled my lungs, stinging my eyes. I couldn't remember the last time I had been in this room. I sat down at his desk, the spinning black computer chair smelling moldy and damp. I didn't mind whatsoever. I gripped the copy of Rolling Stone tightly in my left hand, frantically searching for the Internet Explorer icon. I double-clicked, and it took a minute to open. I typed in rollingstone . com/stanmarsh and pounded on the return key until it finally started to load.

Little Eric poked his head through the doorway and mumbled.

"Mommy?" he asked, confused. I spun around in my chair and managed a fake grin.

"Oh, hi sweetie," I beamed.

"Whut'cha doing?" he requested, curiously. He walked up to me and tilted his head when he noticed the computer screen. I wasn't paying attention, and he pointed suddenly.

"Who's that?" he asked. I turned to the screen and gasped a photo of a shirtless Stan Marsh. I turned the monitor off and quickly sat up.

"Ohh, nobody, sweetie. Come on, go play with your new doggy. He should meet Teddy," I persuaded as I ushered him out of the room. I perched back on the old chair and switched on the monitor, revealing a photo of Stan wearing a black leather jacket over his bare chest. He was a lot more muscular than when I dated him. I shook my head and scrolled down to the mp3s. I clicked on the first one, Mine Forever. It redirected to an empty page with a Quicktime stream, and autoplayed.

It started off slowly, the medley of an acoustic guitar leading the intro. It sounded like the same guitar he had back in high school, the tone reminding me of when he would strum softly in my bedroom. His voice chimed in at last, so familiar that it gave me the same feeling I had when I was with him. It was a bit lower in pitch than the voice I remembered, but still had all the essence of him. The tears started to flow as the chorus chimed in.

There is no doubt within my heart

that no one can keep us apart

For you and I can make it through

And look back on our endeavor

I'll always be here for you

'Cause, baby, you will always be

Mine forever

I was curled up on the floor at this point, the tears soaking the old, tainted carpet. My eyes stung every moment I blinked, only stimulating more tears. My vision was blurred, and my nose gushing. Every time I took in a breath, my lungs felt like they had been ripped out of my chest, make me hyperventilate. His voice flowed through me, bringing back memories of when we were dating, cuddling on blistering cold days, holding hands through the rain… the way he told me that nothing would every stop him from loving me.

I was a mess.

I felt like the day it had happened. The day I left him.

I continued to bawl until Little Eric heard me, and rushed in.

"Mommy! What happen?" he cried, running to my side. He plopped on the floor next to me, looking concerned at me.

I gasped for breath and wrapped Little Eric in a tight squeeze, crying on him.

I managed to get a few words out after a while.

"M-mommy's… f-fine," I stuttered, sniffling. I rubbed my eyes throughly, trying to stop the tears.

I took long, deep breaths and closed my eyes. I tried to picture the happiest moments of my life… the day Little Eric was born, holding him in my arms, his grubby hands pawing at the air. My wedding day…

The gushing of tears had stopped at last, and I was able to control myself at this point.

I stood up and walked into the living room, Little Eric's breakfast still lying on the table. I picked it up weakly, and dumped the half-eaten eggs in the trash, throwing his plastic dish in the sink. I sat down on the kitchen tile, my stomach aching unbearably. I couldn't tell if it was from hunger or the meltdown I had just had, and assumed it was the combined efforts of both. I rummaged through the fridge and found a plastic container of cubed cantaloupe. I opened it abruptly and poured it into a ceramic dish, as well as filling a glass to the brim with tap water. I carried my makeshift meal to the dining table and began to pop them into my mouth.

The sweet juice of the cantaloupe was refreshing, and filled me with joy. The smooth texture was comforting, and I gulped down some of my water. I sighed with relief and laid my head upon the mahogany table. I may not be married to a pop sensation, but I savored my life how it was. I would much rather be an overworked housewife than the wife of a conceited superstar. He'd be out touring, I'd be home alone with the kids for weeks. We'd never have time alone, always tracked down by paparazzi. Our personal life would be posted on the front pages of magazines for the whole world to read.

I found myself smiling, a very rare thing for me to be doing. I beamed as I took my dishes to the kitchen, something I would usually overlook as drudgery. I rinsed them thoroughly before applying the dishwashing soap, and I scrubbed intensely. Once I was through, I wandered into the living room and picked up Little Eric and twirled.

"Mommmyy!" he giggled.

I laid him on the couch and sat beside him.

"Mommy loves you very much," I cooed.

"I love you too, Mommy."

I heard muffled footsteps and keys jingling, before the front door opened. There was Eric, actually at home before midnight. I ran to him and locked him in an embrace, then kissed him.

He laughed, surprised.

"Well, that was… unexpected," he muttered.

And for the first time in God knows how long, I was beaming with joy, in the arms of Eric Cartman.