Desideratum

Chapter 4

"He is a very well-mannered child," the principal remarked as he sat across from Marinette and her young son.

Marinette smiled, brushing a rebel lock of hair away from Cadence's forehead. The boy had climbed onto her lap the moment they had entered the office, but that hardly bothered her.

"I know," she said. "So, I trust there won't be any problems?"

"Of course not," the man answered with a smile of his own. "Cadence is now officially enrolled in our school."

"Good. Then, we shall get going," she said, prompting Cadence to allow her to stand up. He slid smoothly off her lap and took her offered hand. "You have my number. Should something happen—"

"That won't be the case, I assure you," he said.

Marinette nodded. "I trust that it won't."

A good-bye later, and they were strolling through the empty corridors, heading towards the exit of the building.

"You know, it's cool how they try to rub up on you just because they see you dressed like you are and climbing out of a car like that," Cadence remarked when he was finally unable to hold back anymore.

She bit back a laugh. "You are very perceptive," she told him. "However, I do believe that they were telling the truth. About you being a well-mannered child, that is."

Cadence rolled his eyes. "Riiight. I hate my teacher," he declared.

The warm, early-summer air washed over them as they opened the door and climbed down the steps at the entrance. Marinette frowned, amused, the fresh breeze that enveloped the city playing with her long hair. "Why?" she asked. He shrugged. "I don't like her. I have a feeling she doesn't like me much, either."

Marinette laughed. "Well—"

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng?"

She turned around at the sound of her name, only to be met by a tall man. He had dark hair and striking green eyes, which had widened almost imperceptibly at the sight of her—dressed in a summer dress that hugged her curves all in the right places. He himself was wearing a formal business suit.

"Yes," she said. "That's me."

Cadence looked up suspiciously from where he had stopped by her side.

"I am Alexandre Marceau," the mysterious man introduced himself, holding out his hand.

"Oh," Marinette said, realization dawning on her as she accepted the offer.

"I apologize if I seem intrusive, but I like to meet my employees before starting work with them. And since I was not present at the company today…"

"You ended up here," she concluded, nodding. "How?"

"My secretary let me in on the fact that you have a child," he admitted. "Which led me here, this is the nearest school from the office you see."

"Oh, okay. You shouldn't have though. Cadence," she said, pushing him before her, "Say hi."

The child waved. "Hi!"

Marinette rolled her eyes. Sometimes, she thought he did everything in his power to rile her up, simply because he thought it was amusing.

Alexandre smiled down at him. "Hi."

"Well, he needs to eat," she cut in, clearly unwilling to waste any of the time she could spend with her child, "So we need to go. It was nice to meet you."

"You, too, Ms. Dupain-Cheng. I will see you at the office?"

"Of course," she replied, and offered him a small, polite smile, before steering Cadence forwards, towards the car.

"Totally hitting on you," he muttered as he jumped into the vehicle.

Marinette rolled her eyes. "Thank you, Captain Obvious," she answered fondly, before firmly closing the door behind him.

Walking round the car to reach the driver's side, she gracefully slipped in, taking the time to slide the key in the ignition before putting on her seatbelt.

"How was school?" she asked once she had pulled out of the parking lot and was speeding towards their new apartment.

"Boring," Cadence answered.

One glance in the rearview mirror presented her with the image of him slouched down in his seat, hair tousled and lips pouting.

"Any new friends?" she prompted, hiding a smile at his lack of enthusiasm.

He gave a loud sigh. "Yeah."

Cadence was a very open and very friendly child, like her-very much like her, but there are times when he observed and remained on the sidelines, reminded her of him. Marinette could already predict that he was going to be a heartthrob, that popular boy every girl would want. He was much like Luka in that regard—charming, calm, and good-natured.

Sometimes, it pained her to look at him. But then he would say something so incredibly logical, or solve a situation in such a calculating manner, that it made her chest swell with pride.

Because this was her child—and the best thing that had ever happened to her.

"I got a dinner invitation for tonight," Marinette stated one evening, almost a month later, as she leaned with her hands against the back of the couch.

Cadence scoffed from where he was seated, his attention focused on a video game. "Sure you did. From Alexandre."

She smirked, poking his side. "I thought you liked him."

"Yeah," he admitted, shrugging. "Technically. But he's really just trying to distract your attention from me." His mother raised an amused eyebrow. "By paying attention to you."

"Yeah. Which makes you pay attention to how he pays attention to me. Therefore, to him." Marinette laughed.

"In any case," she continued, "It's a business dinner. With a client. And I have to be there." "You wouldn't have accepted it otherwise," he agreed.

"Yes." She nodded, and her eyes softened as she watched him. "I'll look for a sitter that could look after you.

"Okay, sure" he answered.

"Are you sure?" she pressed. "If you want—"

"Mom," he groaned, "It's Friday. What could possibly happen?"

"It can happen that you want to watch a movie with me, and…" Leaning over the back of the couch, she grabbed his torso and started to tickle him.

Cadence rolled over, laughing. "Mom!" he squealed, squirming away.

There was a grin on her face as she stopped and bent down to kiss his cheek. "I'll go get ready."

Only the sound of her steps distracted him from his game enough for him to press pause. A plate of food was set before him on the coffee table, but his eyes followed a loose dark curl up to the face of its owner as she straightened. His mouth nearly dropped open.

His mother was beautiful all the time and no matter what she put on, but when she actually tried… that was a completely different story.

She was wearing a blue, satin dress, sleeveless with pencil cut skirt to her knees; her feet were clad in her black sandals. Her make-up was more prominent, her features more defined; her lips were pink, and her long, shiny hair was curled.

Cadence was well-aware of the fact that his mother was gorgeous. He had seen enough women, and he knew how to make a difference. But sometimes, she amazed even him.

Placing her hands on her hips, she looked down at him with an amused glint in her blueberry-colored eyes.

Cadence blinked. "You look pretty," he told her.

She rolled her eyes. "Cadence, I would have brought you dinner in here, anyway."

He grinned, his head tilted back as he looked up at her. "Because you love me?"

"Because I know you would have come back here with it after I left," she retorted.

Cadence's grin grew even wider. "Well, you look pretty, anyway."

Marinette indulged a small smile. "Thank you," she said, and then heaved a sigh. "I have to go. Be careful. Finish you dinner, don't open the door to anybody, and don't make a mess. You can watch TV, but don't stay up late. And no horror movies! And please, don't stress out your sitter." she reminded him.

Cadence rolled his eyes.

"Remember that the only reason I'm leaving you is because I trust you—and you really want to keep that trust, alright?"

"Yes, Mom."

"Good. Love you," she said, bending down to kiss his forehead. "Bye, baby."

Night had fallen when Marinette stepped out of the restaurant that evening, her colleague by her side.

"Why are you always running away?" he asked, out of the blue, as they slowly made their way in the direction where her car was parked.

Marinette turned to look at him, confused and mildly curious. "I'm not running away." She sounded almost amused.

"You're pulling away, then." He came to a stop, forcing her to do the same. Marinette smoothed down her wind-blown hair as she gazed up at him.

"You can't have not noticed that I feel for you."

She smiled, huffed an amused breath, and looked down for a moment. Then her head rose and her eyes met his again.

Somehow, she had been expecting this moment for an entire month.

"You are very subtle, I'll give you that. But I did notice. Cadence did, too."

Alexandre smiled. "So… What is the problem?"

"The problem is… You are a great man. I know that. But I am not the woman for you."

"Who are you to decide that?" he teased.

She smiled, shaking her head.

"Look, I know you haven't been the happiest person in love," he started. "I can only guess. And I know that you feel nothing for me now. But I've met Cadence, and you've seen how much I care about him. He needs a father."

"He has a father," she replied, so confidently and resolutely that it almost deterred him.

"Then you need a man," he insisted.

"I don't need anyone."

He opened his mouth to speak at that, but she cut him off, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Look, I know what you're trying to tell me. I know how it feels like to have a man by your side. That feeling of protection can't quite compare to anything else. But I have learned to live without it." She shrugged her shoulders slowly. "And I think it's better that way."

"All I'm asking for is a chance." He took a step forward, in her direction, but kept his hands in his pockets.

Marinette shook her head. "Alexandre, I am a mother. I have a child. And he is everything to me. You know that."

"Exactly! Do this for him—for the chance at a happy family."

"It's not that easy to put myself out there again, Alexandre. The way you're making it sound is great. But Cadence and I have never needed anybody. Maybe in the future he will want a father… but then again, he has him." She sighed, glancing down at her feet for a moment. "There is one thing that many people just don't seem to understand: I can't sacrifice myself for my child. I can't do things thinking about him only. We're a family—and it's just the two of us. I can't be unhappy, because I am all he has. And I am going to focus on him—on what he wants, not on what I think it's best for him. I trust his judgment."

Offering him a small smile, she parted with a soft-spoken 'goodnight'. The sound of her heels clicking on the pavement echoed in the almost deserted parking lot.

And as she walked the remaining distance to her car, she never once looked back.