7. Chapter 7

"Do you have to go, daddy?"

Marinette could see the heartbreak on Adrien's face. She couldn't blame him, not when Emma pouted like that. "I do. But Mrs. Marinette will be here for bedtime."

"But what about our story?" she whined.

"Mrs. Marinette will read that to you."

Emma's pout just got bigger.

With a sigh, Adrien knelt on the ground and scooped her up in his arms. "I love you."

"I love you, too, daddy."

He pulled away enough to press a kiss on her forehead. "Best daughter in the whole, wide world."

"Best daddy in the whole, wide world."

Marinette could only grin.

Adrien stood once again. "Be good for Mrs. Marinette, okay?"

Emma's frown returned.

"I'll see you in the morning."

With one last wave and a "thanks again" directed at Marinette, Adrien headed out the door.

Leaving Emma to sit on the floor and pout.

Inwardly, Marinette sighed. "Do you want to play a game, Emma?"

Emma shook her head.

Since it was clear the girl wasn't moving, Marinette sat cross-legged next to her. "Do you want to read the story early?"

Emma didn't even answer before the waterworks started.

Marinette pulled the girl into her lap. "Oh, Emma." she cooed, rubbing the sobbing girl's back.

"I-I-I want d-daddy."

"I know you do, but he has a meeting for work he has to go to."

That only made Emma's tears worse.

Marinette frowned but continued to rub Emma's back. For a while, they sat on the floor just like that until Emma's tears faded. "Feeling better?" Marinette asked.

Emma shook her head.

Marinette pursed her lips. "How about this?" she said, an idea forming in her mind. "We take a bath early, then you get into your pjs and we build a super. Awesome. Pillow fort."

Emma looked mildly intrigued at this.

Marinette nodded slowly, trying to make it seem as magical as possible. "We take all the blankets and pillows we can find and build a fort. Then we'll take a flashlight and read a story."

Slowly, curiosity replaced the tears that filled her blue eyes.

"Do you want to do that?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah?" Marinette repeated inwardly cheering at her success. "Okay. Then let's take a bath. That way, you can get all nice and snuggly in your pjs before we build the fort. All right?"

"Okay."

From there, Marinette coaxed Emma to stand. They went up to her room to get her kitty cat pajamas before making their way into the bathroom. It was a bit odd for Marinette to figure her way through Emma's bath time. Of course, she'd read a handful of parenting books that had touched on the subject, but that was very different than trying to wash the little girl up.

Eventually, the bath was finished, Emma was rinsed off, and the tub was drained. Marinette pulled the towel off the rod and draped it over Emma's head before ruffling her hair.

Marinette grinned when she got a giggle from the girl. She peeked through the towel. "Are you nice and warm?"

Emma nodded, grabbing the towel tighter.

"Good."

By the time Emma put on her pajamas, she was no longer obsessed over her father not being there. Something Marinette counted as a win.

"Are you ready," Marinette said to hype her up. "To create the best pillow fort ever?"

"Yeah!"

"Come on."

Together, they marched down the stairs. Emma grabbed the pillows and blankets while Marinette removed the couch cushions. One by one, they moved them upstairs into Emma's room. By the time they finished their very rudimentary fort, Emma marveled at it like it was the greatest thing ever.

"Sit right in front of the entrance," Marinette said. "I'll take a picture."

Emma had no problem posing for the camera as Marinette took photo after photo. Absently, she wondered where Emma got that from: Chloe or Adrien.

Maybe both.

After a handful of pictures were taken, Marinette showed them to a grinning Emma. "My turn!" she cried. "I want to take a picture of you."

"All right. Jut a few," Marinette said, handing over her phone to Emma, who took it carefully and began snapping photos with a smile.

Thirty pictures later, Marinette reclaimed her phone and had Emma go fetch a story book. Marinette crawled into the fort and leaned her back against the bed, leaving room for Emma to sit down beside her and present her with a book. She didn't expect for Emma to crawl into her lap without hesitation, story book in hand.

"This one," Emma said, holding the book out.

With a fond smile, Marinette took the book out of Emma's hands, allowing Emma to curl up against her. "We left off where the kitty is." Emma said.

Marinette opened the book to remove the kitty cat bookmark and began reading.

It was eight thirty by the time Marinette replaced the bookmark and shut the book.

"One more chapter."

"I've already read you three," Marinette said with a smile. "It's bed time."

Emma frowned.

"Come on. Let's go to bed."

"But the bed has the fort on it," Emma whined.

Marinette knelt in front of the entrance way. "We'll move the blanket over. That way all you have to do to fix it is put the blanket back. Okay."

While clearly reluctant, Emma did as asked. Marinette picked Plagg up from his spot guarding the entrance way and handed him to Emma before situating the covers over the both of them. "Comfy?"

Emma hummed affirmatively, pulling Plagg closer to her.

"Good." Marinette softly said, sweeping Emma's hair back out of her face. "Sweet dreams, Emma."

"Good night," Emma said in return.

With a squeeze of Emma's shoulder, Marinette walked out the door, turning the lights off and shutting the door quietly behind her.

She grabbed her bag form the hallway, then made her way into the kitchen in order to put a kettle on the stove. From there, she pulled a tea bag out of her purse along with a sketchbook and her pencil bag to set on the kitchen table.

Marinette then opened the cabinet that held the mugs, unable to keep from smiling at the collection. It was clear that Emma got her love of cats from her father considering that half the mugs had some sort of cat on them. However, if she were being honest, her favorite was the 'World's Best Dad' mug. She felt Adrien had definitely earned that title.

Marinette pulled out a simple white mug with the Gabriel logo on it just as the kettle started to hiss. She filled the cup then dipped in the tea bag, draping the string over the side. She sat down at the table, opening her sketchbook and started scribbling inside.

By the time her tea was gone, she'd finished seven pages, only to be startled by the sudden click of a lock. Marinette looked up, watching as Adrien appeared looking far more haggard than Marinette expected him to be. "I'd forgotten just how badly I hate events."

Marinette snorted in amusement. "Was it really all that bad?"

"It absolutely blows my mind how people can be so… so…" Unable to find the right word, Adrien collapsed into a chair with a sigh. "I can't describe it. I'm too tired."

Marinette chuckled as she put the mug in the dishwasher.

Adrien rubbed his eyes. "How'd Emma do?"

"She started crying a few minutes after you left," Marinette said, "but once we got over that huddle, she was fine."

Adrien fell face first onto the table and groaned. "I knew I shouldn't have left."

"You might as well get her used to realizing that you have a job and that means you sometimes won't be around to put her to bed."

"But I don't want her to have to fear I won't be there."

Marinette frowned, once again taking in his haggard appearance. "Do you want some tea?"

He forced himself up. "No. Thank you, though. I should really go get some sleep and hope I feel better in the morning."

Suddenly, a thought crossed her mind that had her worried. "Please, tell me you didn't have much to drink."

He paused in his assault on his tie to look at her. "I have a rule when it comes to parties like this: I get one drink. One and only one. Unfortunately, I drank it too fast too early in the evening."

It was a bit of a relief that his exhaustion wasn't due to alcohol. She should have assumed so, but that little girl upstairs was slowly growing on her, and she couldn't help but be protective. "Then go get some sleep. I'll show myself out."

"Thank you, once again," Adrien said, tossing his mangled tie over the back of a chair. "I really appreciate it."

"Even though you didn't enjoy the evening?" Marinette teased, repacking her bag and heading to the door.

"Yes," he said, walking with her down the hallway. "Even though I didn't enjoy…"

He paused, causing Marinette to turn around to see why.

"Um…" he began, pointing into the living room. "Where are the couch cushions?"

With a chuckle, Marinette pulled out her phone. "Up in Emma's room. We built a pillow fort."

Adrien took the offered phone and immediately broke into a smile. "Please, send me that photo," he asked, handing the phone back to Marinette.

"I would have built the fort down here," Marinette said as she tapped her phone, "but I didn't know if I'd be able to get her up into her room if I did."

His phone dinged in his pocket. "As long as she behaved and went to bed, I'm happy."

"We didn't make it to bed until eight thirty-ish," Marinette admitted. "I… may have caved and read her more than one chapter."

Adrien chuckled. "It's fine."

"Well then," she said, reaching for the door handle. "Good night."

"Good night, Marinette," Adrien said, propping the door open for her. "Sleep well, and I'll see you tomorrow."

With a smile, Marinette hurried out to her car, inwardly kicking herself all the while. How tired must she be to think her boss' voice was smoother than honey? Honestly, she needed to get a grip.

A grip that was hard to hold onto when she realized Adrien hadn't shut the door yet. That he was watching her get into her car and didn't shut the door until she started off. Smooth voice and good manners.

Heaven help her, she clearly wasn't the night owl she once was. A large dose of sleep was definitely in order.

There was only one good thing about tonight, and that was Emma was excited to see Marinette for the evening. Apparently, the new and exciting bedtime routine was building a fort with all the couch cushions then hiding inside it while Marinette read via flashlight.

Just the thought made Adrien smile.

Which was good because he was talking with the Rossis and all he wanted to do was cringe. Partly because the joke Mr. Rossi finished was terrible, but mostly because his good breeding dictated that he not shove Lila off his arm. However, if she stroked his bicep one more time, he was going to lose it.

Maybe he would just break his rule and ask for a second drink because drink number one was long gone and he had two more hours left of this event.

The buzz in his back pocket called his attention. While he normally would chastise anyone who pulled their phone out to scroll through it, he decided that as a man who had a daughter back home, he could check it.

It was from Marinette, and it was clearly a photo of some sort. Warmth burst through his chest when he saw the picture of the finished fort with Emma siting in the entrance way, holding Plagg and smiling widely. Look at my fort! the caption said.

Adrien chuckled.

"Who is that?"

His amusement faded upon hearing Lila's voice, remining him he wasn't alone. "My daughter built a pillow fort with her babysitter tonight."

Lila quickly took the phone from his hand and examined it. "Oh," she cooed. "So cute."

"I wasn't aware you had a child."

Adrien looked up to Mr. Rossi, noting the strain on the corners of the man's lips as he tried to hold a somewhat polite expression. "Yes. A four-year-old daughter."

He hummed. "No mother?"

"No."

His disapproval practically radiated off him. "Then who raises that child?"

"I have a nanny," Adrien answered, quickly disliking the direction this conversation was going.

"Ah," Mr. Rossi relaxed. "Good. Live-in, I assume?"

"No. Just daytime."

The disapproval returned. "Then who cares for her at night?"

"I do."

Mr. Rossi raised a brow. "You cannot be serious."

"Is there something wrong with that, sir?"

His mouth opened to say something, but Gabriel cleared his throat. The way Mr. Rossi paled under Gabriel's gaze gave Adrien some twisted amusement.

"No," Mr. Rossi answered tightly. "Nothing at all. Lila, I believe you had someone else you wished to introduce me to."

Considering the shock on Lila's face, her father was lying through his teeth in desperation for an out.

However, Adrien jumped at the chance of it being his out, too. "Good night, Lila," Adrien said, removing her hand from his arm and bowing before her to act the gentleman. "Pleasure conversing with you."

He inwardly cursed when she curtseyed and her lips quirked into a sultry sort of smile. "The pleasure was mine." Lila then followed her father away into the crowd, likely in search of a corner they could have a 'conversation' in.

"He's lucky he's such a strong investor," Gabriel grumbled.

Adrien smirked. "And shame Lila is such a strong model with a stronger following."

Gabriel hummed his agreement. "Next time they dare insinuate you aren't allowed to parent your own daughter, I'll be certain to… conveniently forget to send out an invitation."

Adrien's smirk turned into a proper smile. "I appreciate that."

"Well, considering they are demeaning my son and implying my granddaughter shouldn't be raised by her own father, I think such actions were warranted. I will not have anyone slandering the Agreste name or image. Speaking of image, I'd like to see the one you received."

Adrien happily pulled up the picture and handed the phone off to his father to examine. He wasn't certain which was more picturesque: the photo or his father's fond smile.

A ding sounded from his phone, and Gabriel's brow quirked up as his smile faded slightly, causing Adrien to wonder what Marinette had just sent him.

"She's a lovely looking sort of girl."

Adrien blinked a few times before taking the phone back from his father. He stared at the new photo, one of Emma in Marinette's lap looking very happy while Marinette hugged the girl tight, resting her chin on top of Emma's head.

Goodness, they were cute.

Glad to see you're having fun. He texted back. I wish I was there to enjoy it with you. Have a good night, Emma. And thank you again, Marinette.

Thankfully, the rest of the night was fairly painless, despite having to wade his way through the facades of all the investors. He was happy when he was released to leave, practically running to his car and speeding home.

He felt like he could breathe again by the time he parked his car in the garage. He made his way inside, yanking on his tie in the process. He made his way into the kitchen, not expecting Marinette to be standing there, offering him what looked to be a cup of tea in the 'World's Best Dad' mug that Alya had gotten for him several Christmases ago.

"I just put the teabag in, but I find chamomile is always a good way to end a long day."

He snapped from his shock to take the mug, his tie hanging loose around his neck. "Thank you."

Her smile widened. "So, did it go well?"

"For the most part?"

"Because that wasn't at all hesitant," she sarcastically jested.

He chuckled. "It went about as well as to be expected. Maybe a little worse considering one of the new investors hates me."

"How?"

"How much does he hate me?" Adrien clarified.

"How can he hate you?" Marinette responded. "You are one of the few people in the world with an instantly likable personality."

Adrien took a sip of tea just so that he could have a distraction from that compliment. "Um… he hates the fact I actually parent my daughter instead of having her mother around or a nanny do it."

Marinette stared at him oddly. "That's ridiculous."

Adrien shrugged. "Welcome to the world of judgmental pricks clothed in pleasant facades."

Marinette sighed, her head turned to look off at a wall to the side. "If… you don't mind me asking," she began. "And please tell me if I'm out of line, but what happened between you and Chloe?"

Adrien allowed his eyes to drift closed for a moment. In reality, she likely was out of line for a nanny. However, this was also Alya's friend and a girl he himself wanted to befriend. So, after taking a long sip of the tea, he motioned towards the living room. "Are there cushions on the couch or no?"

Marinette chuckled. "This time, yes, because we built the fort down here today and I was successfully able to send her up to bed afterwards. Eight twenty, this time."

Adrien grinned. "Then take a seat."

The duo walked into the living room, Marinette settling down on one end of the couch, curled up into a perfect ball while holding her mug in both hands.

Adrien took the love seat, angling himself so that he could see her clearly. "I guess I should start from the beginning. How Chloe and I got together and all that.

"As you know, we were childhood friends. We grew up together and were really close. I was homeschooled, so I didn't get out much. I didn't get to meet many girls besides Chloe and Alya. And the girls I did meet were all models whom, if I'm being honest, often came on as entitled and somewhat… immoral."

"And Chloe didn't?" Marinette interrupted.

Adrien snorted. "Ok. So, I know that you had some not so great experiences with Chloe in the past, but she really wasn't all that bad with me. She was far better than most models, hence why we remained close friends. However, even I'll admit my naivete. The reason I started dating her was because she was someone my mother always had a soft spot for, and when my mother passed on… Chloe was still there. I thought Chloe would have made mother proud."

"I'm sorry," Marinette said. "That's really hard."

Adrien knew that meant a lot coming from her. "Thank you. I miss her. I was far closer to her than I was my father, but my family drama is another story.

"Chloe and I did such a seamless transition from friends to dating that neither one of us really knew when we became official. And considering that we were still together even once we graduated, it just seemed natural for me to take it all the way. I proposed. She said yes. We got married. We played house. You'd think it would have been perfect, but once the honeymoon phase wore off, we began actually talking about out futures and dreams and finances and everything we should have talked about before marriage. And that's when we realized our mistakes.

"It was hard for me because Chloe was my closest friend, not just my wife. I wanted to make this work. I started thinking up ways to make it work, trying to find middle ground. Chloe was fine at the beginning, but…"

"She wasn't really fine with it."

"She said she felt like she missed out," Adrien confirmed. "And that's when Chloe grew bitter. I think that there was no going back from that. Chloe is stubborn and insistent. She had her heart set on being done, telling me that we should just call this a mistake and part on equal terms. But I didn't want to. I fought her on it. I tried to even give her more of what she wanted. But that wasn't enough.

"We were quickly growing distant. She was close to getting divorce papers and I, in one last hasty Hail Mary, told her to give it one more chance. One week, and if we couldn't get on track to make it work, I would sign the papers. So, I took a week off work so that we could try to reevaluate our priorities and reorganize our lives to make them work and going on outings and such. Out last night, we went out for dinner and got a little—read a lot—tipsy. We got a taxi home and… well…"

"You knocked her up."

Adrien blushed at her blunt comment, but he couldn't deny it was true. "Not that I knew about it. I woke the next morning so hung over that I didn't notice Chloe wasn't there for a good half hour. I, being the naïve idiot I was, thought that she was just downstairs because, you know, we… yeah. So, it took a while to get up and make it down into the kitchen, but she wasn't there. Instead, there was a note that said 'Adrien, No matter what we wanted to believe, we both knew a week wasn't going to fix anything. Our wants are too different, and sex doesn't hold a relationship together. Let's end this so we can start over. Love Chloe'."

There was a lapse of silence as Marinette stared at him, her jaw slightly open and her eyes full of pity.

Adrien stared down at the tea in his cup. "I texted her, told her I got the note and asked her were she was. We were able to hold some semblance of a civil conversation, though I'm pretty sure I was crying the whole time. A week after that, Chloe's closest friend, Sabrina, appeared, handed me a stack of papers, and said 'you've been served.' I knew it was coming. I should have been prepared for it. But you have no idea how hard those words hit me because… it was really over. There were no more second chances or more tries. It also hit me hard because I knew this wasn't just the end of our marriage. We weren't going to be anything more than civil acquaintances after this. Losing your best friend… it hurts."

Adrien took a sip of tea, allowing a long moment to collect himself before he met Marinette's comforting gaze again. "We each were determined to go through this quickly. Chloe was reasonable in asking what she wanted, going so far to admit that I provided more in the relationship than she did. The documents were drawn up so we would split sixty-forty and we were ready to finalize it. Until Sabrina, who was somewhat of the go-between for us outside of the legal rooms, accidentally sent me a text meant for Chloe. But in that text, she was asking Chloe if she missed their breakfast date because her morning sickness was acting up. And I nearly lost it.

"So, at the beginning of our next proceeding—the one that should have been our last—I brought it up, and things escalated quickly. Our quick divorce dragged on another several months as I fought for at least partial custody of my child. One that Chloe was going to take out of the country and never inform me about. The ending decision of a fifty-fifty split forced Chloe to stay in the country, thankfully. However, the wedge was already between us. Co-parenting was going to be twice as hard considering it was clear that Chloe wanted nothing more to do with me. And now, this baby forced us to stay together. There wasn't a clean second chance, now. Instead, we had a permanent attachment to each other, and while I know Chloe didn't resent being pregnant, she resented the fact her ex-husband was the father.

"Fast forward a few months, and Chloe goes into labor. During one of the last appointments, the doctor discovered Emma was a breech baby, meaning a c-section. Chloe was prepared for the delivery, everything was going well, until right before Emma was born. Chloe was beginning not to respond well to the anesthesia. Since I was the ex-husband and no longer on Chloe's list of emergency contacts, I wasn't privy to the full explanation of what happened. All I know is that I got a call from Sabrina saying that despite the doctors doing all they could, Chloe never woke up from the anesthesia and passed on. 'Allergic reaction' the doctors claimed. I don't know if I believe it or not. But then again, I didn't give much of thought to anything other than the fact I was now a single dad and the only parent to a four-day old baby girl. That was enough of a distraction to take my mind off wondering about it."

A long silence slipped between them. "I'm sorry," Marinette eventually said. "That must have been overwhelming."

Adrien sighed, swirling the tea around in his mug. "I feel guilty about it," he admitted. "I'm thrilled to have full custody of Emma, but at the same point, I didn't want it at the cost of her mother, no matter how poorly we got along."

"You've forgiven her, then?" Marinette asked. "For wanting to take Emma away from you?"

"By her seventh month, Chloe had apologized, claiming she wasn't thinking and that she was sorry to try to remove a father from Emma." Which only made him feel guiltier. Yet, he snorted. "And this came after both of us yelling at each other in court, me accusing Chloe of ending up like her mother, and her accusing me of becoming my father. I strive so hard to not become the distant man my father became when mother passed, and I believe Chloe would have remembered how her mother left her every time things got hard. Do I think she would have been 'mom of the year'? Not really. But do I think she would have been terrible? No. She would have been a mom to Emma."

Marinette took a long sip of her tea. "Thanks for telling me," she said. "I know how hard it is to dredge memories like that up."

Adrien looked up from his mug to stare at her. She was curled in on herself, mug clutched tightly against her chest while she shifted further into the couch cushions. "On that note, can I ask you for your story? Or is it too hard right now?"

She paused, body tense before it sagged with a sigh. "I suppose it's only fair." She took a long sip of her tea before she began. "I… actually have Chloe to thank for it. I met Nathaniel back when I was fourteen. Nath had a habit of paying more attention to his sketchbook than the teachers. I think it was science that the teacher called him out for the fifth—no, sixth—time that week and sent him to the principal's office. Well, on his way to the door, Chloe tripped him, and his sketchbook went flying from his hands. Turns out, he was drawing comics of him as a superhero saving a damsel-in-distress. Me." Marinette smiled fondly.

"You do not strike me as a damsel-on-distress type."

"Hush," Marinette chastised with a grin. "It was endearing.

"Anyway, Chloe humiliated him so badly that he came up to me later that day and apologized for putting me in his comic. He said that it was insulting to me to make me the damsel-in-distress and he felt really bad because he thought I was amazingly bold and confident and didn't need to be saved by some lame superhero. He looked so defeated that I just couldn't let him walk away believing that he did anything wrong because I didn't believe he did. I asked to see his work, and he looked absolutely miserable as he handed his sketchbook to me and told me I could keep it and burn it if I wanted to."

A fond smile spread across her face. "I'll never forget that look on his face when I told him 'why would I burn it? I want to look through it and see your work.' He was incredible. So talented. It was easy to pour on compliments and say just how flattered I was to be in his comic. Next thing I know, he's bright red, stammering out a thank you.

"For a solid year, he continued drawing me and his superhero persona. In the middle of class, he would toss me little sketches. I would always sneak a thumbs-up to him when the teacher's back was turned, and he'd always grin and blush. One day, he tossed me a sketch, and I realized that it was a birthday invitation. After class, he admitted that the one thing he wanted for his birthday was to take me out. I couldn't say no.

"Fast forward a week, and he has this houseboat-picnic-in-the-moonlight planned out. There's music in the background, and he brought his tablet to show me all the finished comics that he did of us. Afterwards, we somehow began sketching together. It… it was a lot of fun. Once the night was over and he walked me home like a perfect gentleman, we agreed to have another 'artists' date.' And a third. And a fourth. Until the word 'artists'' got dropped and we were on our first real date. We were sixteen at that time. I gave him my first kiss, and he told me he loved me. Honestly, I never thought it was too early for that sentiment. He said it at just the right time.

"Graduation hits, and we had one dinner party with both our families to celebrate. Afterwards, we took this walk. He sat me down at a park bench and pulled out a ring."

Marinette pulled a chain out from the front of her shirt, a ring hanging from the center like a pendant. "He told me that he knew people lost touch when high school ended, but he wasn't ready to lose me, nor did he think he would ever be ready. I was young and in love so of course I said yes. It wasn't until afterwards that we sat down and had a serious conversation about our future. We wanted this to work. His parents were hesitant, but my parents trusted our judgement. They really supported us, helped us plan the wedding and all that. Not that it was much of a wedding. We were young and didn't have much money, so we knew we were going to have a budget wedding and no honeymoon. Not that that mattered to me. I'll always think it was perfect.

"Right after our wedding, Nathaniel took me down to the docks, saying he had a surprise for me. That's when he showed me our new house: the houseboat we had our first date on. Apparently, he came across the advertisement for it on accident, but the owner had passed on and the family was trying to sell it. He told me much later that he had gone and appealed to them to lower the price, and it was only because they were so desperate to rid themselves of the boat that they agreed. Anyway, he told me that he'd been taking extra commissions and odd jobs to put a down payment on it, and he managed to get enough for a down payment the week before our wedding. Even though his parents thought we were young and worried if we would last or not, they furnished the boat as a wedding gift. In fact, most gifts were things to fill that place, or for some of our poorer friends, they just spent a lot of time scrubbing the boat to a shine. It was the best thing ever, no matter how tiny it was. We spent our honeymoon traveling up and down the Seine, acting the tourist and wandering around different parts of Paris. I wouldn't change that for the world."

A silence slipped between them as Adrien slowly absorbed her story with a decent amount of jealousy. It was simple, for sure. But the sheer reverence in her tone, the way tears pricked at her eyes, the way she wouldn't stop playing with her ring; it all pointed to a love he had only wished to find. "It sounds like you were a lucky woman, and he was a very lucky man."

She covered her mouth with her hand, tears slipping from her eyes. Now very uncomfortable, Adrien froze, trying to figure out what to do. He was always terrible with crying women. He debated sitting down beside her and… what?

When she sniffed and her eyes scrunched tight, forcing more tears to pour down her cheeks, he decided getting tissues were the best option. He set his mug down, hurried to snag the tissue box from the bathroom and returned to Marinette's side, holding the box out to her.

Not removing her hand from her mouth, she took a tissue. She blew her nose then took another to wipe her face off with.

"I'm sorry," Adrien said. "I shouldn't have asked."

Marinette shook her head, black tresses fluttering around her face. "It's fine," she said, reaching for another tissue. "It's supposed to be a good m-memory, right? I'm not s-supposed to c-cry over it."

"You miss him," Adrien said. "And for that, you're allowed to cry."

Her tears picked up even as she shot him a thankful smile. She used another tissue to blow her nose then took a breath to steady herself. "I think I should go," she said, standing and walking to the door.

Adrien was quick to follow. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Marinette said, breathlessly as she flashed him a smile that clashed with the redness of her eyes.

"Okay," Adrien relented, unsure if he should insist she stay until she stopped crying. "Drive safely, and sleep well."

"Thank you," Marinette said, grabbing her purse and searching for her car keys. Once she found them, she reached for the door handle, only to realize she was still holding a wad of tissues.

Adrien took them from her hand, then opened the door for her. "Text me when you get home, all right?"

Marinette looked up at him, her expression unreadable. "All right."

Adrien forced a smile he didn't feel. "Thank you. Good night."

"Good night." Marinette spun on her heel and quickly marched out to her car. Adrien didn't shut the door until he saw her drive off, and even then, he watched her taillights disappear completely from the street before he shut the door.

He threw away the wad of snotty tissues, washing his hands afterwards. He then went back to the living room to take the box of tissues back to the bathroom and gather both unfinished mugs of tea to put in the dishwasher. Once the dishwasher was shut and turned on, he turned to head back upstairs, only to catch sight of the pink, polka-dotted sketchbook on the kitchen table. It must have been Marinette's who had forgotten it in her haste.

Curiosity got the better of him as he reached for it, opening the cover half-way before letting it drop again. No, he couldn't do that. He knew full well that a sketchbook was private. If he wanted to see what was inside, he would ask.

For now, he put it aside where he would remember it so he could give it to Marinette tomorrow. He forced himself up the stairs, stripped out of his suit, and pulled on a comfortable shirt and pajama bottoms. By the time he was in bed, his phone buzzed, and he anxiously snatched it from the night stand.

Home safe and sound. See you tomorrow.

He smiled fondly, his mind now at ease and willing to see sleep as an option. See you tomorrow.

A/N: This chapter started as 2k. Now it's 6k. What happened.

Explanation for Chloe because I feel like I owe you guys that. I always planned on doing this because I really didn't want Chloe in the story. She would add another layer of conflict and tension and I really didn't want to have the story drag out longer because of that. That meant I had two options: kill her or have her run off. Killing her off allowed for redemption; running away did not.