AN: So this was my short story for English. I wrote it as a fanfiction and then changed the names. I just wanted to share it with you before I edited it.

He shook with nervousness as he took one step onto the train. His brain was screaming out for help from the danger he was encountering. The still fresh and painful memories at the forefront of his mind.

He had spent most of his time over the last three years in a hospital bed. He had become good friends with some of the nurses and doctors on staff, but all of that did not help with the loneliness he has felt since that fateful night three years ago. He knew he had a wife and he knew he had a two kids. Yet, he didn't remember their names.

He remembered he had to go on some sort of business trip to Chicago. The train he was riding there from New York had crashed, and for most people it had been fatal. Apparently, over half of the passengers had died. He was, fortunately, one of the small fraction of the passengers who survived the initial crash. Although his injuries have kept him from seeing the ones that he loved for the past three years, he's just grateful to be alive.

After three years of intense physical therapy, counseling, intracranial surgery, splenectomy, and an amputation of his left leg he could finally go home to see his wife of six years. However, to him it has only been three.

It took all of his energy to get him onto the train to New York. First there had been a mess up with the ticket master. Since there was a slight confusion about his identity three years ago, and he was mistaken for somebody else, he legally had been declared dead. Most likely they contacted his wife, Monica.

All of those things, however did not live up to the pain and anguish of getting onto the train. The noises, the smell, the touch of the railing, the sound of horn going off, was all a constant reminder of what had happened to him. His hands had been sweating, his palms shaking, and his breath had been shallow. Every time he saw a train, or heard the word 'train' he would panic and go into hyper defensive mode. Yet, somehow he found joy in knowing that he would be seeing his wife soon.

He felt great nostalgia as he climbed the stairs to his apartment complex. The building held so many memories for him that even after brain surgery he couldn't forget. He met his wife in that building. He fell in love with her in that building. He started his family in that building. Nobody, not even God could take those memories away from him.

When he knocked on the door, however, something seemed off to him. Maybe it was the fact that he had been gone for three years, or that he was scared of what she would have to say. All of that didn't seem to matter to him, because when she opened the door he couldn't get over how amazing she looked.

Her face went pale and her mind went blank. There was her husband. Well, her ex-husband, standing before her. She had taken him for dead three years ago and it took her forever to move on. However, when she finally did, she found the happiness that she lost when he 'died'.

"Chandler," she breathed.

"Hi," he uttered.

She was suddenly very aware of the wedding ring on her finger, and the fact that it wasn't her wedding ring to him. "What- what are you doing here? I mean, aren't you dead?" She asked, confused. "Am I on drugs?"

His face twisted into confusion. He was just as confused as her. "What do you mean by 'aren't you dead?" He asked and her face went pale.

She looked down to her left hand at her wedding ring. Once again she was very aware of the fact that it wasn't the one he gave her six years ago.

"They told me you died three years ago, Chandler." Monica tried to explain without hurting him, but by the look on his face it was too late for that. "Chandler?" She asked when he didn't say anything.

He heard her, but remained quiet. For three years he had expected her face to light up with happiness when he arrived home. He wasn't expecting the look of confusion and shock that crossed his wife's face.

She was doing what she always did when she was nervous, twisting her engagement and wedding rings. When she was married to Peter he picked up on that habit a long time. Way before they were married.

"Mon, I know that you are probably confused to see me, but-"

"I'm married, Chandler!" she exclaimed suddenly cutting him off. "And it's not to you, at least not anymore."

The wounded look on his face brought back the love that she felt for him in the past back at her in full swing. "Chandler, I'm sorry, but you were dead. At least I thought so. So you can't just expect me to run back into your arms the minute you show up again."

"I just... How… how did you move on so quickly?" Chandler asked, mentally slapping himself for not thinking that she had moved on. She always wanted a family, even if it was without him in the picture. She wanted kids and a husband.

"Quickly, it's been three years, Chandler!" She exclaimed. "Three years ago I was a wreck. I didn't think I could ever move on but then I met him and I just knew that if you couldn't be there then I wanted it to be him." She explained gently. She knew he had every reason to be upset but she still had to defend herself for her actions.

"What's his name?" Chandler asked, his head hanging low, his fingers creating a small cage.

"John. The kids love him, they really do." Monica replied almost hesitantly, not really knowing what to say to him to make the situation any better.

"You mean my kids really love him?" Chandler asked, his voice thick and full of emotion. However, when he looked up and saw her eyes glistening with tears he immediately regretted his actions.

"Chandler, I am happy with him. He makes me happy. He doesn't drive me insane like you used to. He doesn't accidentally forget to turn his ringer off in the middle of a movie. He doesn't make me hate him when we're fighting!" Chandler yelled, all of her reasons valid, and invalid. "He's not you, Chandler!" She exclaimed tearfully.

"You really love him." He stated more than asked. He knew what her answer would be and he knew that she would curse him to die.

She didn't say anything she just nodded 'yes'.

With all of the strength that she managed to stir up she pulled him into a tight embrace. She breathed him in remembering that in the months after his 'death' she missed his scent. She also missed how comforting his hugs were.

"So," he started when he pulled away from her. "I guess this a goodbye then?"

"I guess so," she nodded sadly. "But if you want we can still be friends." She offered hoping that she wasn't losing one of the most important people in her life.

"I can't just be 'friends' with you, Monica. I love you too much for that." He replied and her shoulders visibly sagged. "Believe me if I could keep you in my life without it being awkward, or making me want to kill myself I would

"Then I guess this is goodbye." Monica said, tears she had been holding finally finding their release.

He turned around on his heels, not daring to look back at her because then he might just get down on his knees and beg for her to leave that John guy and go back to him. But, just like she said she was happy, and he wasn't going to do anything to jeopardize her happiness. He was walking away, like any respectable human being would do. He was letting her be happy. Even if he did love her.