It had been ten months.
Ten months since Adrien had boarded that plane after a really nasty fight with her.
Ten months without getting a reply to his apology text message. "I'm sorry I snapped at you. I love you, can't wait for this trip to be over."
Ten months without hearing the sound of his wife's voice.
Lucky's Birthday Gift from Maerynn and Raydara
Originally posted in September 2017
Adrien shifted in his seat, nerves slowly getting the best of him. He could hear the secretary speaking in a lowered voice on the other side of the door, and a muffled whisper answering her. Another voice he could recognize within millions, another voice he had never thought he'd get to hear again.
His wife's voice.
It had been ten months.
Ten months since he had boarded that plane after a really nasty fight with her. Ten months without getting a reply to his apology text message. "I'm sorry I snapped at you. I love you, can't wait for this trip to be over."
A week later, he had called her best friend, the unusual lack of response worrying him to no end. Sure, it wasn't unheard from her to space out for a few days whenever she got involved too deeply in a project, but an entire week? Something must have had happened to her.
He would never forget the moment Alya had called him back, sobbing uncontrollably and repeating over and over again, "She's gone, Adrien, gone!"
He had jumped onto the first available plane heading to Paris, and had rushed home, only to confirm the horrible truth: Marinette was nowhere to be found, her closets were empty. On the kitchen table, in plain sight, she had left her phone, her wallet, divorce papers signed by her hand and a note. A little square of paper, bearing the last words his wife ever addressed to him. "I'm sorry. I'm safe, please don't search for me."
The following weeks were still a blur in his mind. He had devoted every single waking hour to his desperate search for her.
His father had tried to stop him, to fill his head with lies and schemes he refused to believe. Credit cards statements bearing hotel rooms charges, pictures of Marinette smiling warmly at another man, evidence that she had been spotted without wearing her wedding band, Gabriel Agreste had stopped at nothing to try and convince his son that his runaway wife was a lying cheater.
And that he needed to sign the divorce papers.
But Adrien stubbornly refused. He couldn't bring himself to finalize the procedures, to draw the final line on a ten-year-long love story without having some answers first. Was she okay? Did she need anything? Why had she left all her friends and family behind? Even if she really had an affair, it was so unlike Marinette to run away like that, to abandon everything she ever held dear without fighting for it.
Something was wrong. Very wrong.
And so, Adrien searched.
Frantically. Desperately. He hired the best people he could to track her whereabouts, to rake all of France for her.
When it became obvious that she wasn't in French territory anymore, he widened the span of his search. No matter where Marinette was, he would find her. There was not another option in his mind. He couldn't bear thinking otherwise.
It took him a little over ten months.
A little over ten months, and a chance encounter on Internet with a little Australian boutique, Coccinelle's Designs. According to the website, the boutique belonged to a woman named Emma Zhào, but Marinette's familiar style was written all over those clothes, clear as day.
He had found her.
He had no proof except what his gut was telling him, but by that point he was getting desperate.
The next morning he was boarding a plane to Australia.
Which brought him there, sitting outside some unknown office, hearing a voice he had longed for during ten long months through the door. "I can't see him right now, Casey, if that man wanted to see me that bad, he should have booked an appointment beforehand."
This was more than he could take. Adrien got up, fists balled by his side, and marched right through the office's door. "The last time I checked, Marinette, I didn't need an appointment to meet with my wife. Or should I call you Emma? Did you really think I would give up on you that easily?"
Marinette's face blanched, and Adrien got a good look at his wife. She had lost weight, pounds she didn't even have to spare to begin with. Her eyes were rimmed by dark bags, her lips chapped from being bitten too much. What had her in that exhausted, over-stressed state, he didn't have a clue, but he could only guess that abandoning her entire life behind her probably had taken its toll on her.
She raised to her feet, staring at him coldly. "Adrien, please go back to Paris and never try to contact me again."
"You're my wife!" he yelled, ten months of worries, of frustrations, of unanswered questions unraveling in front of her.
She tensed, her nails digging into the palm of her hands. "Not anymore, Adrien. I signed divorce papers."
"I didn't," he spat angrily. "I won't let you throw away the life we spent ten years building together without even giving me a reason, Marinette."
"You want a reason?" Tears were running down her cheeks, but she didn't seem to care the slightest. "I don't love you anymore, Adrien. That ten-year-old life you were talking about? I don't want that anymore."
Adrien didn't have time to answer before a side door slid open, a young woman entering the room with an obviously upset little infant cradled in her arms. "I'm really, really sorry for interrupting, Mlle Zhào, but I've tried everything and Louis just won't stop crying."
Marinette visibly deflated, holding her arms out for the baby, who calmed considerably the second he was held against her chest. What little doubt was left in his mind was swept away the second Marinette unclasped what appeared to be a nursing bra and brought the infant to her breast. The baby happily latched onto it, and Marinette lifted worried eyes toward Adrien's face.
He watched for a few seconds, bemused, as his wife (his WIFE) nursed the little boy, before asking the words that were burning his lips, "How… How old is he?"
"He just turned three months," she answered in a whisper.
Blood drained from Adrien's face, and his brain stopped processing informations. "So that's it then? You really cheated on me?"
Her eyes widened, but resolve quickly washed it away as she pulled the infant closer to her. "Yes. I'm sorry."
"Whose baby is this, Marinette? At least tell me who I lost my wife to. Can you grant me that closure? Is that asking too much of you?"
In that instant, Marinette looked like a trapped animal. With her son still feeding, there was no way she could escape the room, and they both knew it. She averted her gaze from his, lowering the beautiful blue eyes he had never thought he'd see again on her baby. "I… He's not around, anymore, Adrien. It's only Louis and I."
Her story was falling apart, was bursting at the seams. The Marinette he knew, the one Tom Dupain had walked up the aisle five years prior, she was a fighter. She was the bravest woman he knew, not the kind to fall for the pretty words of someone who would knock her up and abandon her.
He gulped, forcing himself to remain calm despite the burning desire to demand immediate answers from her, by any means necessary. "If his father abandoned you, Marinette, why won't you come back to Paris with me? I'll adopt him and give him the Agreste surname, and not a single thing has to change. We still can be happy."
She gasped loudly, her hand clutching Louis against her breast, who protested vehemently at the sudden movement. She didn't seem to notice, staring at Adrien with wide, horrified eyes. "No. No. Never. Never Paris again. Adrien, you have to leave. Please. For both of our sakes, please never contact me again, and forget about us. Please."
He dropped to his knees, grabbing her free hand. "Marinette. I spent the last ten months searching for you. I'm willing to do anything for you. I don't care that you made a mistake, I'll raise your son like mine and he'll never lack anything. I love you, Marinette, I've loved you for a decade, and I know that I can love your child, that he can be ours. Just say the words."
Adrien knew the exact second his words cut through her defenses. A dam broke inside her, and hot tears spilled on her cheeks as she hiccupped through violent sobs. Louis voiced his disapproval rather loudly, and Adrien instinctively reached forward to take him from her arms.
"He already has your eyes," Marinette managed to say in between sobs, taking him aback.
Confused, his gaze went from the curious little boy staring at him in his arms to the woman he loved. "Wh-what did you say just now?"
She took a deep breath and stood up, facing him but keeping her eyes on the baby. "Louis. He has your eyes."
"Are… are you really saying that…"
Marinette smiled tentatively, lovingly pushing a thin lock of blond hair out of the infant's forehead. "He's your son, Adrien. I'm-"
She couldn't finish her sentence, seeing as Adrien pulled her into a bone crushing hug, resting his forehead on hers as he carefully kept Louis out of the way. Tears ran down his cheeks as he whispered, clinging to his wife, "Why, Marinette?"
"You won't believe me if I tell you." She tried to back out from his embrace, but ten months of longing had made him craving for her touch. He tightened his hold on her, unable to tear his gaze away from the little boy looking at him with big, curious green eyes.
What could have possibly driven his wife away from him if the baby was his? "Try me," he said, unable to imagine anything horrible to warrant such drastic lengths.
Marinette tensed within his arms. "But, your father…"
"Marinette, it's okay, I know very well what my father is capable of."
She let out a long sigh, but rested her head on his shoulder. "He threatened me. And our baby."
It felt like he had opened the floodgates. She told him everything.
About how the night after their big fight, she had come home from work to find Gabriel Agreste seating at their dining table, a thick folder of forged evidences of her alleged affair in front of him.
"You are to get out of my son's life and never return."
She had scoffed, hanging her keys on a nearby hook. "We've been married for five years, Mr. Agreste. It might be time to accept it."
Gabriel had stood up, walking up to her in that slow, leisurely pace that had always crept her up. "Wouldn't it be unfortunate, Mlle Dupain-Cheng, if something was to happen to that unborn child?"
Taken aback, Marinette had stumbled backwards, draping a protective hand over her still-flat stomach. "H-How? No-no one knows yet, not even Adrien! I-"
"I have my ways. Now let me make myself very clear, Mlle Dupain-Cheng. Step aside from Adrien's life and stop distracting him from his family duty. I'll have the divorce papers sent to you first thing tomorrow, and as long as Adrien never sees your pretty face again, you and your child both will be safe. The choice is yours."
"Adrien will search for me, he'll ask for answers," Marinette had tried to argue, "He won't accept my disappearance that easily. What keeps me from telling him about your threats?"
Gabriel had laughed at that, a laugh that had made her blood curdled in her veins. "Who do you think he'll believe in the end? The woman who used his name to climb her way through the fashion industry and is now trying to tear what's left of his family apart, or the man who had raised him to the level he's now?"
For the first time of her life understanding the exact extent of Gabriel's hatred toward her, of his madness, Marinette had feared for her life.
For their baby's life.
So she had obeyed, had packed her suitcases without saying goodbye to anyone she knew or love, and had boarded the first and furthest flight she could find.
It had been hard. Adjusting to a new life, in a foreign country, without a past or a name to rely on, it had proved to be tricky. But the slowly growing bulge under her shirt had provided her with enough motivation to pull through.
She had opened an online boutique, which had taken off nicely in a country where her designs were considered exotic and innovative. The pregnancy soon had made things too hard for her to manage things on her own, and she had taken an associate to help her open a boutique.
Adrien held her tight as she told him her story, not daring to interrupt her.
Once she was done, he took a good look at his son (his son), and pulled his phone out of his back pocket. "Get me three plane tickets to Paris, and a fresh team of bodyguards to welcome me and my wife at the airport. Run thorough background checks on everyone, I want every employee above suspicion. I want guards at home too, 24h/7."
"What was all that about, Adrien?"
"I'm reclaiming what was stolen from us."
Agreste men angers were famous.
Famously scary, and something to avoid at all cost.
So when Adrien Agreste marched into his father's office right in the middle of a board meeting, it wasn't hard to guess that he was way beyond pissed.
The older man raised startled eyes toward his son, frowning at the unexpected display of rebellion. "Adrien, what-"
His usually composed and docile golden child snapped, years of neglect and overbearingness crashing down on him all at once. "You listen to me, for a change," Adrien snarled, slamming his fists down on his father's desk. "We are done. I'm taking the next flight to Australia, and I am never coming back. You've just lost what was left of your family, father."
Gabriel stood up, anger flaring behind the cold gray eyes. "Adrien, please leave this room right this second. We'll talk about this nonsense of yours once I come home and you've had time to come to your senses."
But Adrien wasn't listening. Pure hatred dripped from each of his words as he answered, oblivious to the men surrounding them, drinking his words like the gossip vultures they were. "It's over, father. You've gambled more than you could take. What you took from me? There's no price tag to this, no way to ever replace that. You took from me nine months of expecting my baby, of shopping for baby supplies with my wife, the birth of my son, three months of his life. There's no way you could ever make up for this."
"Adrien, wait-"
Adrien straightened up, shooting a fond smile to the lady standing on the threshold, a baby boy cradled in her arms. "I'm done waiting, father. I've roamed the entire world for Marinette for ten long months. I belong with her, wether you like it or not."
About to leave the room, the young man turned around and stated, smirking, "by the way, I sold my shares in Agreste. So you now only hold thirty percents of it. Have a nice day."
A familiar chime resonated in Marinette's office, and she forced herself away from the design that was driving her crazy to look at her phone. There, displayed on the little screen, was a picture of Adrien and Louis at the local park near their apartment, both of them grinning from ear to ear.
"Father/son bonding moment under Sydney's sun!" read the caption, and promptly put a fond smile on Marinette's lips. Any worries that she might have had about Louis adjusting to the sudden presence of a man in his life had promptly been swept away by the sheer amount of devotion Adrien was showing toward their baby boy.
Her phone chimed again in her palm, displaying another photo of Louis tucked into his stroller, looking at the mobile she had made him with stars in his eyes. "On our way to pick Mommy up for lunch. See you soon my love xx."
She glanced at the hour, and then looked at the designs sprawled out on her work table. Within seconds, her decision was made. She grabbed her purse and got up, calling out in the boutique, "Casey?"
The young woman peeked her head through the door, looking at her colleague quizzically, "Yes, Em- erm, I mean, Marinette?"
Marinette giggled softly, "I'm sorry, this is going to take some time getting used to, isn't it?"
Casey smiled. "It's alright, I don't mind. If it means seeing you this happy, I can manage calling you by your real name."
"Anyway," Marinette resumed, unable to keep the blush from her cheeks, "I'm taking the afternoon off. Feel free to do the same."
"Oh, do you have a hot date planned for tonight?" the younger girl teased as she walked her to the front door. From where they were standing, Marinette could see the familiar figure of her husband against the horizon line, pushing the stroller toward the boutique.
"I do," she answered, "with the loves of my life. Have a nice evening, Casey."
The boutique door closed behind her as she walked into the street, her eyes never leaving the lean figure coming toward her in a leisurely pace. The broad shoulders, the halo of golden blond hair, the turquoise shirt flattering his body, everything in this man was attracting her like a siren's song.
A radiant smile lit up his face as soon as he saw her, and Marinette suddenly felt like she was fifteen again. She broke into a sprint, slamming herself against his toned chest as he wrapped a strong arm around her back, still holding the stroller with his free hand.
"Hey there," he greeted, his breath tickling the crown of her head.
She looked up, saw the immensity of his love in the familiar green eyes, and couldn't help but think as she pressed her lips to his, "My life is perfect."
Marinette sighed, the sensation of Adrien's lips on her throat driving her crazy.
"Adrien…" she half-moaned, her fingers tangling themselves into the blond mane.
He smirked against her porcelain skin. "What is it, my lady?" His fingers found the hem of her shorts, gently pulling them down her long legs. She gasped as his lips pressed feather-like kisses on her thighs, on her hip, on her bare abdomen.
Adrien caressed her side, his hands playing with the edges of her panties as he whispered in her ear, "Your parents arrive tomorrow morning with Alya and Nino, and then I'll have to share you for an entire month. Can I be a little selfish tonight and keep you all to myself?"
Right on cue, Louis' cries echoed through the baby monitor, and Adrien sprung out of the bed, pulling his pants back up in a hurry. Marinette chuckled as she sat back up, watching her husband lovingly, "I could get him, you know?"
"Nonsense. I have three months of diapers and wake-up calls to make up for, princess. Make yourself comfortable, I'm going to change him and bring him to you."
Minutes later, when Adrien handed her a freshly changed Louis and helped him latch onto her breast, seemingly not the slightest fazed that their son had interrupted what could have been a steamy evening, Marinette knew.
She never wanted to be without him again.
There, in the darkness of their bedroom, with Louis happily feeding and Adrien sitting beside them on the bed, gently stroking their son's hair as he hummed a lullaby, she finally felt complete again.