so be it (chapter-1-)

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SO BE IT


Life was good in Paris. Hawkmoth had been defeated last year, meaning the superheroes got to retire, and Marinette got to take over a fashion company and make it her own. She had nothing to complain about.

Or, so one would think.

They say young love doesn't last, and if you had asked an eighteen-year-old Marinette who wore a ring on her finger given to her by her precious superhero partner, she would have told you to shove that advice up your you-know-where.

Now, at twenty-four years of age, she was beginning to believe it.

When it had been discovered who had been behind the Butterfly Miraculous, it had wrecked all of them, but Adrien had been the most damaged. Since that day, he never was the same. Marinette could only do so much to make him open up, particularly when he didn't want to.

However, besides Adrien being a mess, Marinette was left with the disaster that was the Gabriel fashion company. Previous to his defeat, Gabriel had taken a liking to Marinette and had taught her how to run the business. When everything hit the fan, she was there to work overtime so that the company would still be standing and everyone would keep their jobs by the time the dust settled. Adrien didn't seem to mind; he'd dove into his fencing as a coping mechanism and soon offered to take over for his old fencing instructor when Mr. D'argencourt wanted to retire.

For a while after that, that's just how it was. It's how it had to be in order to cope with everything. One year later, and that didn't change.

It was edging closer to seven at night by the time Marinette got home. The second she dumped her keys on the counter, her phone began to ring, meaning she had to dig in the overlarge tote bag to find the thing.

"You just got home and you're still working," Adrien grumbled.

"Well, you try to deal with the shit-show that's your father's company."

"You could just leave it 'til tomorrow."

"Except most people who call me need me immediately."

Adrien scoffed. "You run a huge company that makes copious amounts of money, yet you don't staff people to care for it in your absence."

Marinette dropped her purse on the counter, looking up at her husband with a spark in her eyes. The phone was long forgotten; she'd check the voicemail later. "I'm trying to keep everyone on, but as you know, Nathalie quit and no one can fill her job. No one exactly wants to play PR rep for a company that's only just hit its upswing after that disastrous scandal. What do you expect me to do, Adrien? Let it die? This is your family business I'm keeping alive."

"The business was called Gabriel. I don't know why you bother keeping that legacy alive when he's dead and deserves to be."

"Because he's your father."

"No, that's not why and you know it."

"Oh, then enlighten me."

Adrien stared at her with a frown that seemed to perpetually be on his face. Long gone were the days he smiled for cameras, but Marinette couldn't even remember what his smile looked like beyond the photoshoots.

"I find it fitting," Adrien growled, "that a company built by a selfish workaholic gets taken over by someone equally so."

Marinette's jaw hit the ground in pure and utter shock. Those words hit her hard, settling sourly in her stomach and starting a fire in her gut.

Thinking he'd won, he turned to march off.

"Well," she said, the words coming up so fast she couldn't stop them. "Like father, like son."

He whipped around to face her in a millisecond. "Excuse me."

"You heard me," Marinette snipped.

"And just how do you think I'm like my father? Enlighten me."

"Both reclusive, bitter people with no care for anyone living under the same roof as you."

"Reclusive?" Adrien sputtered.

"Deny it," Marinette challenged, staring dead into his eyes. "I dare you."

"And I dare you to deny that you care for nothing other than that damn company."

"I do care."

"Not that I've seen."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. Damn workaholic that never does anything if it's not related to the company. I do all the work around the house."

"You have more time than I do," Marinette defended.

"We both run our own business. Does it not occur to you that maybe I have just as little time as you?"

"Oh, well, if you think my life is so easy, then I suggest we switch a day. You'll eat those words."

"Or maybe you could just admit you're wrong."

"What am I wrong about? It's not like I don't clean the house."

"When you're here which is, oh, how often?" Adrien snipped, voice dripping in bitter sarcasm.

"I don't need your sass."

"And I sure as shit don't need yours."

"Oh, like you weren't the one who started this."

Adrien paused. To say the ensuing silence was tense was an understatement.

"Well," Adrien finally growled. "I can end it." With that, he ripped the wedding band off his finger and slammed it on the kitchen counter. "I'm done."

Then he turned and marched away. Somewhere in the house, a door slammed shut, leaving Marinette standing there, stunned, numb, but surprisingly fine with that decision.

"So be it."

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