Adrien laughed along as he was ushered to an empty seat at the end of the aisle, somewhere near the middle of the church. He sat down and his laughter died on his lips. There she was, looking breathtakingly beautiful in her simple salmon pink maid-of-honour dress, her hair swept up in a sleek French twist with tendrils framing her face. She was making her way to the front of the church when a man with red hair put a hand on her elbow. She turned and the ache in his chest intensified as her eyes, blue as the sky after the flush of dawn, remained the same as he remembered them. She was still pale, but he’d always loved that about her. She said something to the man and smiled at him before turning around to face him fully. She raised a hand and placed it on the man’s cheek tenderly and Adrien felt the blood rush to his head when he noticed the ring on her left ring finger. No. No it can’t be.

Unthinkingly, he shot to his feet. That caught her attention. Her eyes flitted to meet his and her pale face became even paler, until even the lipstick colouring her lips could not hide the fact that the blood had drained from her face. She smiled at the man again and said something to him. The man nodded and turned around, heading for his seat. A flash of recognition hit him and he realised that the man was no other than Nathanael, his old classmate.

Physically pulling herself together, Marinette stomped over to him and took his elbow. She pulled him into an empty antechamber and closed the door behind her.

“Marinette…” Adrien made his way towards her and placed a hand on her cheek. She was cold but soft to the touch.

Instinctually, she raised her face towards his and her lips parted. Catching herself just in time, she smacked his hand away. “What are you doing here?”

“I was invited. What are you doing here?”

“I am the maid of honour! And Alya is my best friend. I will not miss her wedding!”

“And Nino is my best friend; I will not miss his wedding either!”

They stared at each other. Adrien didn’t know what was going on in her mind at the moment, but he clenched his hands against his trousers to keep them from grabbing her, biting his lips hard to keep them from kissing her. She was so close that he could smell her, a scent he thought he’d never smell again. The scent of coming home.

“Where’s Chloé?”

“What?” He had to shake himself to remember where he was.

“Where’s your wife.” The way she said it made it sound like she was reminding herself of something. Maybe she felt the same as he did. Even a little.

“She didn’t want to come.” She threw up her hands and snorted, unimpressed. “Where’s your husband?”

She jumped. He knew. She stared at him as he stared at her ring. Consciously, she fiddled with it. “Outside. You saw him just now.”

It took a while before what she said sank in. “Nathanaël?” he spluttered. “You married Nathanaël?”

“And what's wrong with that?” Marinette asked defensively. “What was I supposed to do, Adrien? Wait for you? Hope for you? Cry myself dry for you? Because I've done that and a whole lot more, trust me.”

“I,” Adrien moved forward, closing the small gap they had between them. “I'm sorry,” he placed a hand on her cheek automatically.

“Don’t touch me!” Marinette exploded and he leapt back, alarmed. She was shaking like a leaf, tears already threatening to fall. “Please, it’s taken me so long to feel okay. Please don’t take that away from me again.”

“I'm sorry,” he said again.

“You should be,” she retorted, her voice hard.

“Hey, it hasn’t been easy for me, either,” Adrien argued hotly. It wasn’t fair, to blame just him on this. He was a victim too. “I don’t like it any more than you do!”

“But do you feel like a hole has been formed somewhere inside of you? Like a large chunk of your flesh was yanked out but never healed? Do you ever look at every golden sun-tipped leaf and think of him and only him? How you could never get him out of your mind? His smile is there at every corner, his laughter ringing forever in your ears? Or do you just feel like a dull ache of regret?”

Adrien licked his lips. “I feel all that and more. I feel her smile every time I lie down on my side. I feel her hand on my cheek every time it’s spring and a breeze hits my face. I feel her laughter every winter and I'm on the roof, looking down, her smile on my lips and her laughter in my ear. I see her face every time I close my eyes, the face she showed me when I made the biggest mistake of my life, when I pulled away from Chloé at my wedding.”

"Yet you chose differently.”

“Yet I chose differently.”

They remained silent for a while, staring at each other. The room was too small for the two of them; they were too close to each other, even when they were both pressed against opposite walls. Their breaths were mingling even with the space between them. They only had to reach out and they would be touching. She was so close to him, yet so far.

She pushed herself away from her wall just as he pushed himself off his and suddenly they bumped into each other. “I'm sorry-” she said automatically, her eyes rising to meet his, her hand on his chest to steady herself.

He couldn’t help it; he dipped his head to meet her soft lips. Only to be met with her cheek as she turned away. “I can’t,” she whispered, already pushing away from him and making her way to the door.

She had her hand on the doorknob when she looked up, blinked profusely as she took in deep breaths. “You might not like me marrying Nathanael,” she said softly, her back towards him. “He is not you and he can never be you; but at least he can save me from myself.”

Adrien found himself breathing hard.“What about Ladybug?” he asked suddenly.

She fiddled unconsciously with her ears, which had stud earrings in the shape of a flower. She turned towards him with a wan smile. “A Ladybug is nothing without her Chat Noir,” she said as she turned away and opened the door.

He stood there in the darkness for a while, trying to control himself. By the time he could trust himself enough to keep a façade in public, he stepped out of the tiny room. The service was well underway by the time he came out, Alya already radiant as the sun at the front of the church; Marinette standing proudly next to her. He quietly slipped into his chair and watched his best friend get married. He wondered if his bride ever looked as happy as Alya did right now. He wondered if Marinette looked as happy on her wedding day as Alya does right now. At the thought, he turned his gaze towards her and the same thought from eight years ago popped back up in his head. She was too strong for her own good.