Desideratum

Chapter 25

She was in the midst of looking over a document when there was a knock on her door. She beckoned whoever was on the other side in without looking up, her attention fixed on the small print before her eyes.

"Marinette." Her name was called and she raised her head to see one of her colleagues sticking her head inside her office, and giggling like a high school girl. "There's someone here who wants to see you. It seems urgent."

Marinette frowned as she closed the file in her hands and placed it on her desk, standing up. "What now?" she muttered as she crossed the room, running a hand over her forehead.

Closing the door behind her, she noticed him immediately, leaning against the wall in the hallway. Her heart in her throat, she hardly refrained herself from running over to him.

"Luka!" she greeted, eyes wide and breathing slightly agitated as she looked up at him worriedly. "What happened?" Millions of scenarios formed inside her head, and naturally, most of them focused around Cadence.

"Nothing." Smoothing a hand over her dark locks, he seemed able to read her mind as he soothed her. "Cadence's fine."

"Then what are you doing here? Everyone's looking at you and my secretary is giggling like mad!" she asked. For a long moment, she was confused. Then she narrowed her eyes at him, waving her index finger to lecture him. "Luka, if this is about—"

"No," he laughed, grasping her hand with his. "It's not about that. I came here because… Can you pick Cadence up from school? I know we've established that I would, but—"

"Of course I can," she said, frowning. Why had he come all the way to her office to tell her that?

"Is everything alright?" He seemed to hesitate in giving her an answer.

"I have something to do."

Marinette furrowed her brows, but nodded. "Go ahead."

"I'll see you at home," he announced, before kissing her knuckles and leaving.

She heaved a sigh as she turned around, running a hand through her hair. A scare was the last thing she had needed that morning, and so was food for thought from Luka.

Alexandre was waiting for her at the entrance of her office when she returned, and she forced a small smile to her face in greeting. "Have something for me?" he inquired, and she nodded.

"Of course," she said, opening the door to enter the room. She was making her way to her desk to retrieve her work when he spoke, little after she heard the door closing behind them.

"You live with him now." It wasn't a question. It was a statement, and Marinette knew exactly what he was talking about.

Swallowing, she tried to keep her voice as cool as possible as she answered. "Yes." She didn't mind having people know of her decision, because she was sure it had been the right one, but it was certainly an unusual situation—and that made her susceptible to judgment and criticism that she simply did not need at this stage in her life.

Flipping through the files stacked on her desk, she wasn't surprised to see his hands on the wooden surface, nor was she surprised to hear his question.

"Why, Marinette?"

Her gaze never lifted. "For Cadence."

"But… Marinette, if you want nothing to do with him…"

"I want nothing to do with him, yes. What was once between us is now over," she agreed. Having finally found the file she was searching for, she pulled it out and set it in front of her. Then her head rose to look at him in the eye. "But, there can be nothing between us, either."

"Why not?" He seemed to challenge.

She was silent.

A moment later, he reached his own conclusion. "You still love him, don't you?"

Alexandre had never intended to witness the scene that he had when he walked out of his office, but he had, and there was no going back now.

Marinette was a woman that was entirely dedicated to her child, and that was something that had been clear to him since day one; nothing that she did received even the smallest part of the love and attention a single word addressed to Cadence did. So when he saw her with another man, he instantly knew perfectly well who he was.

It would be a lie to claim he didn't see him as competition, because he did—he had from the very beginning, especially after knowing he is a famous rockstar. But as he watched them, he couldn't help but wonder why he even felt that way, in the first place. It was foolish. The way he looked at her, the way he touched her, the way his lips formed her name… there was no doubt in the world for any onlooker that this man would never hurt the woman in front of him.

Then he realized why exactly Luka was so sure of himself. It was in the way she received his touch, the way she looked up at him, the expression on her face when he turned to leave.

"I never stopped," she whispered. "And I wanted to deny it… but I don't see the point anymore." It was the most honest Marinette had ever been with him.

"That's never going to change, is it?" he questioned softly.

"If it hasn't in eighteen years, I doubt it ever will," she answered. Her expression was wistful for a moment, before she sobered up and picked up the file on her desk. "In any case, I have the sketches that you wanted…"

Luka never came home that night, leaving Marinette to take care of their son.

Cadence was, of course, restless. He had calmed down by the following day, but that was after she had nearly collapsed in her bed with exhaustion the night before. Cadence was a smart child, smarter than most of them; he had her intelligence, that was clear, and maybe the way she had raised him had had an influence, as well. The fact of the matter was, the things that made sense to him were easy for him to assimilate. Those that did not, on the other hand, could only mean additional stress for Marinette.

"What your father does… There's a lot of responsibility resting on his shoulders. Situations like these happen. Things don't always work as planned. He can't always keep his promises."

Those were the words that calmed him. Those were the words that calmed her.

When he finally arrived home late that night, Luka was upset. Both Marinette and Cadence could feel the tense atmosphere as he talked on the phone in the other room, even when they couldn't understand what he was saying.

She took her son upstairs and tucked him in with yet another reassurance.

Then she slowly made her way downstairs to clean up the mess left from their dinner, her mind delving in memories she wished would have never existed.

Life had never been easy for them. Not when he was just a starting musician, then came the fans, the popularity, the reputation, all of it, and certainly not when he had already achieved his goal.

He was stressed, she knew. There was a lot of pressure put on him; there were expectations to meet and there were situations that were hard to manage. She knew that. Unfortunately, she didn't know it because he chose to tell her, but because she figured it out on her own.

Luka kept to himself, which was unusual, but not to a high degree. Although Luka had always been open with his feelings, much more open than she had ever been and could ever hope to be, he also had the tendency to mind his business when it came to doing things. He had his own way of dealing with whatever challenge he was presented with, he had been handling himself ever since he was a young child and he had never needed anyone's advice or opinion. Marinette knew and she understood that, because the same went for her.

But seeing him so tired and so stressed without an explanation soon became a horrible thing to witness. She started to feel as though not only was he pulling away from her, but he was going out of his way to hide things from her—shutting her out completely.

She had a right to be upset, and she soon began to demand explanations, demand to know why he was never there, and when he was, he was pushing her away.

Looking back, she could see that perhaps the situation wasn't entirely like that. Luka was busy, and he certainly led a stressful life. Coming home, he expected peace and quiet. Of course when she started to yell at him, he wanted to put as much distance between them as possible.

As time passed by, they were almost always angry with one another. They didn't even need a reason anymore; they were remorseful for things that were said and never meant, for feelings and emotions that were never once evoked in something other than their own scenarios. Marinette had no way of knowing how that affected him, but it broke her.

Pausing in her action of wiping the counter clean, she let out a long, even breath. She really didn't want to approach him and risk a fight with their son in the house and possibly still awake. They were getting along well, there was no doubt about that; not a single glare had passed between them in months. But then again, they had yet to face such a situation.

Still, her heart was clenching painfully in her chest—and it was not because of anxiety, but because of worry. What if he needed her? True enough, he had never needed her before, but… She swallowed. What if he did now?

Throwing the rag to the side, Marinette decided there was only one way out. She started towards the living room. After all, if the situation proved more than she could—and should—handle, she could always leave or she could always remind him of his child; Luka loved Cadence too much not to care.

When she entered the room, he was sitting on the couch, running his hands through his hair in what she recognized to be a frustrated gesture. Her heart was beating a hundred miles per minute as she tried her hardest to gather her bearings, calling out his name. His body tensed.

She approached him and kneeled down before him—and asked the question she should have asked all those years ago, but never did. "Are you alright?"

His head snapped up to look at her, surprise showing clearly in his eyes.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then—slowly, hesitantly—his hand came to cover hers where it rested on his knee.

She never knew what happened after that, because the next moment, she was on his lap, and he was hugging her fiercely, his face buried in the crook of her neck, arms wrapped tightly around her middle. She didn't demand to hear what had happened, because that had been her mistake from the very beginning and because, in all honesty, she didn't care. The fact that he was there, seeking comfort in her arms, was enough.

And, she realized as she struggled to control her tears and the tremors that shook her body by hugging him tighter around the neck—maybe it would have been enough all those years ago, too.