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Marinette Dupain-Cheng was in love with Luka Couffain.
When she was fourteen and tripping over herself for Adrien Agreste, a boy who couldn't be any blinder and oblivious to her feelings than a mole rat above ground, he saw her for who she truly was.
She ended up loving Luka and he loved her too. She could see it in his long gazes and wistful smiles. She saw it in the way he woke her up with feathered kisses on her face and how he held her close after they made love. She knew it because of the gentle way he handled her, always considerate and conscious of her feelings.
So why was she sitting at the dressing table in their bedroom, getting ready to go spend the night with someone who wasn't him?
Her heart began to pound in her chest as he walked into the room and stood behind her. She met his eyes in the mirror's reflection. Luka had always been expressive and transparent, just like he was right then. The turmoil residing within them was scary.
He had also stopped playing. His music was as much a part of him as Tikki was a part of her. She remembered how his beautiful melodies had tapered to heartbroken tunes then angry strums and had just stopped altogether. It was as if all the notes had been wiped away from the sheet music in his mind. A part of him had been erased.
Looking into his blank eyes, Marinette considered if he didn't play because she had broken him so badly with her infidelity. She had never said it directly, but she knew he knew. Luka could never cut off his music from anything less than utter betrayal from the woman he loved most. How could he not figure it out? At some point, she had picked up the damning scent of camembert and the most popular Gabriel fragrance which was a far cry from the smell of laundry detergent and guitar polish that clung to Luka.
Marinette inwardly cringed at the look on his face, as if he know he was about to ask a question that he didn't want the answer to. "You're going out?" he queried, trying to keep his voice cheery and light but she could hear the subtle crack. All those years together and the music he filled the silence with had taught her to hear the less obvious audio imperfections.
Marinette cast her eyes to the tube of red lipstick on the dresser. With the way her guilt plagued her, she might as well have picked up the lipstick and drawn a giant, red 'A' on her breast pocket. She cleared her throat to avoid choking on her own sins.
"Yes," she uttered quietly. She lifted her eyes to see his reaction. His eyes had always been such a beautiful colour. They were a deep blue like the ocean. He always held the playful twinkle of the sun reflecting off the water on sunniest days. She used to be able to look into those eyes for hours and feel serene. But now, as she stared into his eyes, she felt like she was drowning. Drowning in the steely grey they had become. The playful waved that used to live in his eyes had died down but a strong current of emotion continued to sweep her away. The ocean's cry was mournful of the love slowly being lost.
Marinette couldn't keep looking in his eyes anymore -- they were slowly destroying her. Not because they were accusing or hateful, but instead they were still hopeful. Even though she had proved it to be fruitless, they were hopeful that eventually she'd get bored and realise that Adrien Agreste didn't deserve back then and he doesn't deserve her now.
But Marinette knew she wasn't going to get bored. She knew that Adrien was her Achilles' heel and that when it came to him, Marinette was lost. And somewhere within him, he had to know it, too.
Marinette didn't want to get lost though. She just wanted to be with Luka and sit down in front of their fireplace with a glass of wine while he played her any song that popped into his mind on his guitar. His beautiful, creative mind that allowed him to craft gorgeous melodies with his calloused, yet soft hands completed with his unselfish, gorgeous heart. A heart that Marinette was breaking. Splintering into pieces as if she grabbed that guitar out of his hands and slammed it on the floor.
Why wouldn't he let her go? Why wouldn't he realise that she doesn't deserve him? Why didn't he just confront her about what he knew, shout at her and leave her? She wouldn't fault him. She would deserve it. But Luka didn't let go, he just looked at her with those steely grey eyes that used to be her favourite shade of blue and Marinette felt like the woman that just ran over a puppy.
A puppy? The comparison was so disrespectful to his character that Marinette had to control the urge to grimace. Luka wasn't a puppy. He was a man. Luka was an incredibly strong man who just wanted his wife to love him the way he loved her. That's what he deserved and he knew it. And for some odd reason, he believed Marinette could be that kind of wife, but she wasn't. She hadn't been for a long time.
They both knew what they were walking into when they decided to start dating. Luka had known how Marinette felt about Adrien from the beginning and he was ready to let her be with him. But Marinette was so damn fickle. She decided if Adrien didn't want her, then she would date Luka -- someone who did want her. And Luka was happy to be the person she would love, he thought that eventually, everything she felt for Adrien would be forgotten and buried. And Marinette, she settled. She was glad to give Luka the chance he deserved and she thought that eventually, everything she felt for Adrien would be forgotten and buried. And now seven years later, it wasn't enough. Marinette didn't want to settle anymore.
And what she felt for Adrien, it wasn't forgotten and buried.
She truly did love Luka. He'd been there for her. Their marriage was two years old but their bond went back to when she was fourteen. That was almost fifteen years. She didn't just want to leave him but it just wasn't enough anymore. What she felt for him, wasn't enough anymore.
Marinette finally looked him in the eye, even though it pained her. "I'm going out with Alya and the other girls."
Marinette had known Luka for a long time. To anyone else, his flinch was unnoticeable but to her, the action was as obvious as a purple elephant in the middle of the room. She had just looked him in the eye and lied. She didn't even want to think about what that did to him.
Luka took a small, barely noticeable step back.
"I'm going to go shower," he said softly.
Luka walked to the bathroom stiffly and shut the door. Just a little over two months ago, he would have left the door open and just five months ago, he may have asked her to join him. Luka had barely touched her in months. Maybe, he figured that she was getting touched more than enough someone else. Someone that wasn't him. She was practically tainted.
Marinette had just finished getting ready when he got out of the shower. She wondered how she could be less than satisfied as she looked at the gorgeous man that stood in front of her. He was fit. He had incredible abs and an excellent behind and his face was something every woman would fantasise about. So why was she so stupid?
Luka's eyes raked over her and a dull fire blazed in them. It was as if he wanted to lust over her but knew she wasn't his to lust over anymore. "You look beautiful."
"Thank you," she replied, graciously, politely. That's all they were now, gracious and polite. A large difference from the eager and familiar behaviour they had a few months ago.
He nodded silently and began to dig through drawers for a pair of pyjamas. "Are you gonna be out late?"
"Probably," she answered, curtly. "Might even sleepover at Alya's tonight."
She heard his sharp intake of air as she turned to grab a coat. "What about Nino? I'm sure he'd like to spend the night with his fiancé." Marinette heard the real question loud and clear, what about me? I'm sure I'd like to be with my wife. I'm sure you realise how much you're breaking me.
Marinette inwardly cringed as she skirted around the subtle dig. "That won't be a problem, Nino is doing a show over in Versailles so he'll be sleeping in a hotel and coming back tomorrow."
"Oh," he replied with no expression. "Well then, seems like you're sorted. I'll see you tomorrow morning, then."
Marinette but her lip in guilt, "Actually, I have to go into work to check on how the collections coming along. So I might only be back at around six."
Luka looked her in the eye, a silent huff of breath leaving him. His patience to keep her close to him, chipping away. "Goodbye, Marinette." He gave her the sweetest kiss she'd ever had and stepped away from her. "I'll see you tomorrow ."
He had been saying that a lot lately. It's like he believed every time he said goodbye to her so formally, the cheating Marinette would go away and the real Marinette -- his Marinette -- would come back; pastries from her parents shop in hand and a dance in her step ready to tell him about her day doing what she loved, designing, and ready to hear about what he loved most, music.
But Marinette wasn't sure about that. She couldn't bring back the real Marinette when she wasn't even sure which one she really was. "Bye, Luka."
She walked out of the room. She didn't want to look back but she did and what she was a determined, weary man. He was determined that this was the night that she would come back to him. He was weary because he didn't know how much more he could take if it wasn't.
She didn't know how much more she could take either.
///
When Marinette woke up the next morning, in the arms of Adrien Agreste, she knew, right then, she wouldn't be going back to Luka. She couldn't. Not when she knew moments like this could exist, this time when it just him and her.
She compared Adrien’s sleeping face to Luka's. The physical differences didn't call out to her. She barely noticed that Adrien was tanner than Luka or that Luka had longer eyelashes. She just paid attention to how they both looked at their most vulnerable - - they weren't all that different, really. Adrien and Luka both looked like an angel kissed them before they went to sleep. That peace that surrounded them was bewitching. She had wanted to preserve that rare peace, keep it protected in a glass case, where she could look at it forever. But nowadays, Luka slept with a painful furrow in brows and his cheeks were more pale than usual. It was almost as if Marinette’s infidelity followed him into his dreams. It haunted him, just as much as it haunted her. But it affected him in a different way, the kind of way that ruins you.
The guilt ate her up inside.
She shouldn't be allowed to be here, enjoying the serenity being with Adrien offered her, when the one person who deserved it most was suffering a grievance he didn't deserve. An expense for loving her.
Adrien’s eyes popped open and those beautiful, green gems were already alight with so much happiness that it made any other negative and stressful thought tumble out of her mind. Adrien was hers. And she was his.
Marinette Dupain-Cheng was in love with Adrien Agreste.
///
Marinette had written her letter to Luka weeks ago. She knew she couldn't look him in the eye and confess that she was in love with another man.
So she'd written a letter, in her neatest handwriting, with flowery adjectives to somehow soften the blow. When she had reread she wanted to vomit at her lack of bravery. The size of her own cowardice shocked her.
How had she ever been able to wield that Ladybug Miraculous? She was less than worthy -- of the Miraculous, of Luka and of Adrien.
She placed the letter on the coffee table, grabbed her suitcase and made her way to the door. As she grabbed the handle, the door swung open and there stood Luka, eyes wide as he looked at her tear-stained face and the large suitcase behind her.
He smiled bitterly, "What no goodbye? You'd think that after seven years together, I'd at least deserve that."
"Luka…" She uttered. That hollow chuckle that followed made her cold on the inside. Her heart constricted and frost crawled and twined between each crevice in her spine. The laugh was wrong for him, near blasphemous. She didn't want him to laugh unless it was a happy laugh. But she really had no right to want anything from him, did she?
Luka forced his way past her and into the apartment. His eyes quickly found the letter on the table. He picked it up and looked her in the eye, and uttered in an unimpressed tone, "Really?"
"I didn't want to hurt you, Luka but--" She began, her voice shaking as she attempted to shield herself for a battle she was unprepared to fight.
"But you did hurt me. You hurt me a lot, Marinette. You made me think for seven whole years that I could be enough for and you just take away my happiness the moment you find out Adrien is Chat Noir? I get it, you're Ladybug and he's Chat. You're both two halves of a whole. But what I don't get is the lies and the getting-my-hopes-up-to-drag-them-through-the-mud part. Why couldn't you just tell me?" his voice broke at the end. The tears swimming in his eyes broke her. She felt every single shard of her heart cut her lungs and collide and scratch at her ribs. This was the reason why she never wanted to do this!
"Because I still love you, Luka," she cried.
"Just not enough, huh? Not as much as Adrien Agreste. Your other half?" he sneered. Marinette flinched, whether from the poison in his voice or his discovery of her secret identity she did not know.
"How did you know?"
"Marinette," he stalked towards her and grabbed her by the shoulders, "I have loved you for fifteen years and we've been together for seven. You think I wouldn't notice your abrupt disappearances and how traumatised you were after the battle with Hawkmoth? You think I didn't notice the red thing you kept in your purse, or how you talked to it every now and again. You think I didn't notice that your heart song matched Ladybug's to the very last note?"
"Why didn't you say something?" She whispered. Her secret identity was the easiest thing to focus on, her one redeeming quality. She could not face the person she really was underneath it all.
"I figured that you'd tell me when you were ready, but I guess you'll never be ready for the grown-up conversations," Luka said. Marinette pursed her lips. Their age difference used to be something Luka teased her about in good fun but when it came out of his mouth with that tone, she couldn't help but feel fourteen all over again.
"Luka, I--" she said.
"Just… just go, Marinette," he released his hold on her shoulders and stepped back. "I've heard enough lies and excuses to last me a lifetime."
Marinette nodded and blinked through the tears. "I'm sorry."
"No, you're not. You're not sorry for sleeping with him or loving him. You're sorry that you got caught and have to live with that guilt," he stated. "I don't want that kind of apology."
Marinette stared at him for a few more seconds before picking up her luggage and leaving. The sound of the wheels on her suitcase filled the apartment which used to be filled with the sound of melodies from a piano and chords from a guitar. An apartment that was once filled with warmth and happiness echoed the sound of her footsteps as she left and Luka's agonized breathing. The click as she shut the door echoed through Luka's bones, shaking him to the core.
"I love you, too," he muttered to the ghost of happiness he was left with. He slowly pulled the ring off his finger and placed it on top of the letter she had left for him.