What, an update? Impossible!

Chapter 9: No Regret


"Girl, why are you in such a rush?" Alya asked, watching her best friend gather her things in a hurry.

"I forgot about something!" Marinette fretted, dropping her bag in the process. Which caused all the things she'd gathered to spill out. "Shoot," she muttered under her breath, "I'm such a klutz!"

"Whoa, girl, relax. What could you have forgotten about that can cause this much panic? I haven't seen you this scatter-brained since high school!" Alya astonished, joining Marinette on the ground to help her clean up.

Marinette sighed, putting the final piece in her bag again and looked at Alya. They were both knelt down on the floor and Marinette blew a piece of hair from her face. "I—Well… I'm meeting Adrien."

Alya gave her a deadpanned look. "With whom you're married to… what's the big deal about meeting with your husband?" she asked.

"It's not the meeting with him part, it's just—ya know. We're looking for a house… and… I dunno," Marinette dug through her bag for her keys, mumbling something about needing a brighter keychain.

Alya looked at the table they had been sitting at to see her friend's keys lying there. She picked them up and jingled them in front of Marinette's distracted face. "Here," she said, hearing Marinette utter out a "Thank you." Alya crossed her arms and stared curiously at her friend. "What's the big deal? You're looking for a house. Something every married couple does… Haven't you dreamed about this for like, your whole life, or something?" Alya asked.

Marinette shrugged and looked away from her friend, "Well, I mean, yeah. But, like, it's still a little soon, isn't it?"

Alya furrowed her brows, "You've been married for 3 months. So no, it's not 'too soon.' Getting a house is good. You've been crashing in his mouse-sized apartment, which, if I do recall, doesn't allow for a roommate."

Marinette bit her fingers, "Yeah, we've been ignoring the calls about that…"

"What's the real issue here?" Alya asked, reaching out for Marinette's shoulder, "Are you alright?"

Marinette slid from her grasp, looking worriedly at her phone. "Y-you're probably right! I'm just crazy. This is Adrien," she said as she lifted her phone, "Gotta take it!"

Alya watched her friend go with a wild expression, "Oh…kay… see ya later, then?"

Marinette pushed the coffee shop door open with her shoulder, holding her phone in one hand and her drink in the other. "Hey, hon," she said, "Yeah, I'm on my way. No, I didn't forget, I'm just running a bit late. Yeah, bad traffic. Uh huh. Okay. Yup, see you in a few. I love you too. Bye." She hung up and stuffed her phone in her purse, grabbing her keys and hopping into her car.

"Alya's right," she told herself, "This is good."


"Okay, on to house number three!" Adrien said enthusiastically, buckling up his seat-belt. "That last one was cool, though, huh? What did you think, Mari? You were pretty quiet in there…" He looked over at his wife to see her staring numbly out the window. "Marinette?"

She blinked and turned to him, looking dazed, "I'm sorry, I was zoned out. What?" She asked.

Adrien frowned, "I asked if you were okay," he said, reaching out to touch her forehead. "Are you sick? Do you have a fever? Maybe we should go home…"

"Oh no, I'm not sick," Marinette brushed him off. "Tired is all."

"You sure?" he asked.

"Positive," she smiled at him.

"Alright. So, what'd you think of the house?" he asked.

"It was okay," she said. "It's expensive, though."

Adrien shrugged, "Well, money's not an issue, so don't pay attention to the price tag, okay? We'll get whatever we need and whatever works."

Marinette looked at her husband with a clumsy smile, "The money you got from your father is suppose to be for retirement, isn't it? That was your plan, right?"

Adrien looked at her with a gentle smile before looking back at the road, "Plans can change."

Anxiety squeezed Marinette's chest, "You should save it."

"Mari, don't worry. Even if we went all in and bought the whole house now, I'd still have plenty left over. Besides, I'm gonna put what we don't spend in a retirement plan." He reached out to touch her knee gently, "Your worried, and it isn't about the money…"

"I'm not worried, it's just an expensive house—"

"Marinette, what's wrong?" he came to a stop at a street light.

"Nothing," she said, crossing her arms stubbornly.

"Come on, Mari, what's eating at you?" He pushed.

She nodded towards the windshield of the car, "The light's green."

He huffed, "I'm not going until you tell me what's wrong."

"Adrien you can't—there's people behind us," she turned around in her seat to see a frustrated wave from the car behind them followed by a honk. "Adrien, seriously! Go!"

"Not until you tell me what's wrong. Normally I wouldn't push because I don't need to know sometimes, but this is clearly about us, and that I should know. So what's wrong?" He pushed the car into park to prove his point.

"Adrien, we don't have time—"

"Are you having regrets?" he blurted out, his voice calm. Marinette knew this voice, but she'd never personally experienced it. It was his business voice. The voice he used at professional parties, or conversations with co-workers. It was his father's voice.

"…Regrets?" She repeated numbly, looking him in the eye. The angry honks and yells began to fade out.

He nodded, "Yeah, regrets. About us," his eyes and face stoic; he was like a wall. But Marinette could see clearly behind it. He was hurt.

"N-no! No, of course not! I could never regret this," she gestured between them. "It's just…"

"What?"

"Will you?" she ask carefully. Looking away from him.

"Will I what?" He asked, tilting his head. His once calm voice became lathered in frustrated confusion. A car swerved around them, giving them a pleasant curse and honk as he passed, followed by more cars.

"Will you regret this?" she asked. He didn't respond. "Maybe not now, and maybe not next year or the year after that, but… maybe in ten years. When I'm older, and less exciting. Maybe you'll look back at it all and realize that it was when you decided to marry me that things started to go wrong. That, in ten years you'll regret loving me and how you bought a fancy house and used up your money," she hadn't noticed until now, but she was crying. She could tell because a tear had fallen onto her hand. "After all, you said it yourself! Plans change, and I don't want you to regret this—"

She felt large hands envelop her own small ones. She didn't dare look up to see the man who was holding them though. She couldn't.

"Hey," he said gently, leaning over to kiss her wet cheek. "I could never regret this," he said, but she looked unconvinced, offering him a lazy shrug and a mumbled, "Maybe."

"I love you," he said, baffled. She didn't move. He huffed, thinking of what to say. "Now, if I remember correctly," he began, "I had a crush on you first," he said.

"You had a crush on Ladybug, not Marinette," she pointed out.

"And you had a crush on a model, not Chat Noir," he countered. "I agree, things can change. We changed, but it was for the better, right?"

"But—"

"For better or worse," he repeated their wedding vows. "Now, I take that seriously. Even if there comes a 'worse,' I'll never regret it. Because I love you. We chose each other." He gently pulled her chin to look her in the eyes. "The only thing I could ever regret would be not marrying you. To not share a life with you. To have kids and grow old with you."

She blinked and smiled at him, "Kids?" she asked.

"Kids," he nodded, glad she was smiling. "I'm serious, Mari. About you. About this."

She leaned in to kiss him. Soft and sweet, short and simple. "Thank you," she mumbled.

He kissed her nose and leaned back. "But," he said, putting their car back in drive and looking to see the light had turned red again. "If Nino confesses his love to me, I may just run into the sunset with him," he said, acting serious.

"Oh my gosh," Marinette shoved him with a laugh, "You're a dork."

"But you love me," he winked at her.

"Maybe…" she rolled her eyes playfully.

"And I love you."

"Yeah," she smiled.


I don't know what this has to do with anything, but I figured that's the point of one-shots, am I right?

Hope you enjoyed,

-LovelySheree