Lost And Found
By: Kit
Disclaimer- With the exception of Evie and Sam, all the other characters do not belong to me….blah, blah, blah…and I do not make a cent for doing this…blah, blah, blah….
Author's Note- This is the hardest thing I've ever written and I still don't know if I should put it up…so please be tell me if you like it or not and send me feedbacks!!! I'd appreciate it very much.
New York- 2002
Waiting. That's what she's been doing for the past two hours, waiting for the inevitable. If someone had asked her a year, or even six months ago, never in a million years would she even thought of doing this. But now, the more she thinks about it, the more certain she feels about her decision.
Painstakingly, she ponders over and over again about her choice, and the only justification for her impending action is that she needs a break to find herself, to be free. Free from her work, from this apartment, from her friends and family…from him.
She straightens herself up quickly from the chair when she hears the door opens and her husband's figure enters wearily into the apartment.
Upon seeing how his eyes light up at the sight of her, she almost recoils from her decision. However, the little voices in her stubborn mind are urging her to carry out the deed.
"Boy am I glad to see you, I've had THE worst day…." He pauses immediately when he notices the suitcase beside the kitchen table.
"What is going on?" He questions her alarmingly.
"I…I have to…" She shakes her head to think of a better way to say it, but there IS no better way to tell him without causing him pain.
"I am leaving." She blurts out finally. The words sound so much colder out of her mouth than in her head when she rehearsed them.
As soon as those words come out of her mouth, he just stood still like a dummy. From that point on, everything seems so unreal to him. A brief moment later, the initial shock, confusion and numbness are soon replaced by tremendous pain, like he has been stabbed with a million knives.
"Wh…why?" That's all he manages to stutter.
Why. She sighs sadly as she repeats the word to herself. Why. How can such a simple question be render by so many complicated answers? There are numerous explanations for her leaving, professionally, personally…maybe even spiritually. Despite all her preparations for this dreadful moment, she is unable to answer him. Seeing him like this makes her utterly speechless; it breaks her heart as much as she breaks his.
Guiltily, she lowers her head as he starts to pace uncontrollably between the kitchen and the living room.
"Look, I know we have our problems lately…but this?" He stops and refers to her suitcase. "This is ridiculous! Whatever problems we may have, we can always deal with them like we used to do, there is no need to…"
"This isn't about us!" She interrupts him frustratingly.
"Well why don't you tell me what the hell is this all about then!" He says loudly, furious at her sudden irrational resolution to leave him.
"Chandler, I…" She opens her month to speak, but she can't think of anything to say but four words. Four words which did not exist in her vocabularies once upon a time; four words she never thought she would say, especially to him.
Taking a deep breath, she gathers up the courage and stares into his eyes firmly to tell what she has intended to tell him for the past three and a half months.
"I want a divorce."
* * *
Three Years Later- New York
Work is the only thing over which he feels he has complete control and power. It is a great form of therapy.
As he types relentlessly into his laptop, he can literally forget where he is, why he is there and whom he is supposed to see. Most importantly, if he focuses really, really hard, he can almost put the image of her out of his mind. Almost.
In hopes of getting rid of this inerasable remembrance of her, he continues to work with increasing intensity, concentration and effort. Despite of the enormous success he has obtained professionally, he often asks himself why does he work so damn hard in the first place anyway.
After all these years, he just can't seem to forget about her. No matter how much work he does, he fails miserably to block her out of his life, out of his mind. Everything he sees, everywhere he goes, everyone he meets…there are always little traces that remind him of her compulsive tidiness and insanely competitive ways; and his senses are still longing for on the aroma of her hair, the touch of her skin, the taste of her lips, the sound of her laughter, and the way she used to smile at him. Most of all, the emptiness she left him when she walked out of that door still exists.
Jadedly, he leans back into the chair and messages his temples with a sigh as memory rewinds and plays itself vividly in his mind one more time.
* * *
Flashback to 2002
"Don't you remember the promise I made to you?" He ran his hand through his hair frustratingly. "Monica, I will do anything to make you happy, you know that."
"Happy? Chandler, I…I haven't been happy for a very, very long time." She stated slowly and sorrowfully, "I am miserable!"
"Then tell me how the hell to fix it!" He shouted loudly as he resumed pacing back and forth in front of his wife, who took a step back involuntarily as a result of his outburst. Searching for answers, he rambled on, "Is it because I work too much? Or…or is it because I don't pay enough attention to you? Whatever it is, giving up is NOT the solution." He paused to look at her determinedly, "Our marriage is worth more than that!"
She lifted her head to look directly at her husband, and continued with devastation, "Fine! You want to know what the problem is? I'll tell you exactly what it is."
Attempting to form words out of a thousand thoughts that flooded through her mind at the same time, she closed her eyes to set her head straight, then she carried on explaining, "Things change, people change. Everyone is going SOMEWHERE, doing SOMETHING. Look at you! You are getting promotions after promotions, raises after raises; Joey's show tops the ratings every week, not to mention the success of his new movie; Rachel is opening her own boutique with Ross, who is also running an award winning lab; Phoebe is getting record deals…and then there's me. I am sick and tired of not going anywhere!"
"What are you talking about?" He walked towards her and put his hands on her shoulders with as much assurance as he could. "You are the head chef of an awesome restaurant and an incredible wife…my wife."
"Have you ever had this feeling that something is missing from your life?" She asked as she slowly backed a few steps away from him. "Have you ever wanted to do something crazy? Something…something that's completely out of your own character?"
"And divorcing me is your idea of being adventurous." He commented sarcastically. If she really wanted to do something "crazy", why can't she go skydiving or something? He couldn't set his bitterness aside and listen to her ridiculous "reasons" anymore.
Oblivious to his remark, she slightly tilted her head pensively and continued to narrate; her tone was softer than before, "All my life, I have role of a caretaker. I've always known that there is something more out there, but in the mist of taking care of everyone else, I never have to time to take care of myself. I never really asked myself what it is that I want." She swallowed hard to rid of the lump in her throats and looked down at the wedding band on her finger.
"I try to ignored this feeling but it was eating me up inside, holding me back from loving you the way that I should." She slowly raised her head to find herself staring at a blurry image of him. She blinked her eyes to clarify the image, but the more she blinked, the blurrier he seemed.
Taken back by her sudden honesty, he could see a faint sparkle of inexplicable desire behind her tear-filled eyes. Somehow, those eyes were not looking at him anymore; they are staring straight past him, as if they are fixed on some place far away.
Attempting to hide her tears, she walked away from her husband. Even though it was in a midsummer's night, she hugged herself tightly with her arms to prevent the unusual chilliness from penetrating into her bones. Slowly, her right hand reached for her wedding band and reluctantly slid it off her finger.
He remained silent as he watched her intently. Throughout their marriage, he took pride in connecting with his wife so well. He thought he had that precious gift of knowing her inner thoughts and feelings just by observing her behaviours.
Nevertheless, it had never occurred to him that she actually felt this way.
She chuckled to herself sadly at the irony of their situation as she read the inscription of the ring.
"Lost and Found"
He was her true North, her compass. When that fog was finally lifted from her eyes, and she clearly saw him for the first time, not only did she find the one, she had found the way. She felt complete, knowing that she was also his rock.
As time went by, somewhere along the way, she got lost again. She had no idea where, when or how did she fell off that path from him, but she could practically feel that familiar void in her heart growing bigger and bigger everyday.
Then again, sometimes he would make her too content that she feared that, one day, it would be stripped away from her, and all she's left with are pieces of her broken heart that he carefully planned to weaved back into whole, but decided in the end that they weren't worth his time and effort.
Was she leaving him because of her desire for adventure? Or was it just an impulsive act of her increasingly irrational insecurity?
That was the worst part…she had no idea. All she knew was that she had to get away from him for a while. She needed time to herself, to think things over.
Avoiding his eyes, she kept her eyes on her ring as she walked toward him. She takes his hand and put her ring into his palm, and closed it firmly.
"Until I find out what the hell it is that's wrong with me, I can't do this. No, not to us, and certainly not to you." She spoke as calmly as she could, still hold his hand in hers.
He stared downheartedly at his wife, barely able to restrain tears from falling from his own eyes, and uttered desperately as he gestured to the home they had both made for themselves for the last 3 years, "I thought this is what you wanted."
Looking up, she whispered, more to herself than to him, "I thought so too."
"I should've known…" He choked out bitterly, "I mean, who am I to think that I would be the one to make you happy? For the past five years, I…I thought that this is the one relationship that would last, especially when I have you by my side. Who am I kidding? I can't even form a functional relationship with anyone, let alone a successful marriage with you!"
"No Chandler! Don't you DARE blaming this on yourself!" She cried as she brought her hands up to his face, "I want you to look at me…" she stared into his eyes as tears were falling freely from both of their faces, and she caressed his cheeks. "And know that none of this is your fault. You are so wonderful…and loving…God, you deserve so much better."
"If loving you means that I have to burn in Hell, then I wouldn't want it any other way." He stated stubbornly.
Lost for words, she just looked at him in awe. Before she knows it, her mouth was pressed passionately against his. She didn't remember who had initiated their last kiss, but the sudden emotion that flooded through her body overwhelmed her. She could hear the alarming siren in her head blaring violently while her heart and her soul surrendered to his familiar touch. She hungrily kissed him back, knowing perfectly well that she shouldn't look into his amazing blue eyes in the first place. She ran her hands through his hair, imprinting in her mind how soft it felt to touch his hair as more tears slid down her face, betraying her tightly closed eyes.
Regardless of how much she was hurting him at the moment, there was always something about her hidden vulnerability that made him wanted to prevent HER from harm. Gently, he kissed her eyes and cheeks in an effort to kiss her tears away. Attempting to keep their world, well, HIS world at least, from falling apart, he slipped his hands around her waist firmly, momentarily forgetting her ring that was still in his palm.
The clatter of the ring hitting the floor echoed the apartment. It was like a wake up call for her. Quickly, she pushed him away while mentally scolding herself. Part of her cursed her for temporarily losing her mind and throwing her self-control out of the window in a heat of passion, but the other part of her reproached her for pulling away from what was the most intense and remarkable kiss of their relationship. Ironic, isn't it?
Filled with desire, he stepped toward her and took her face in his hands. He gazed into her eyes for a while before planting a kiss on her forehand. Then, sighing heavily, he rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes.
"Don't leave me." He whispered.
She wrapped her arms around his waist and held on to him tightly as she rested her head on his shoulder. She remained quiet for a while as she felt his hands gently rubbing her back. Sighing heavily, she gave him her final answer, fully aware that this is the point of no return in their imminent separation.
He could literally felt his heart being ripped into a million pieces when her reply, barely audible, was breathed into his ear.
"I'm sorry." She said.
Before he even had a chance to react, she hastily broke away from him. She picked up her suitcase and walked out on him without even looking back.
* * *
Rome, Italy- 2005
Wearily, she walks into her apartment and closes the door behind her with a sigh. It's six o'clock in the morning, and she hasn't slept at all in the past 48 hours. She treads across her relatively modern apartment and collapses on the sofa, throwing her keys on the coffee table uncaringly in doing so.
Chuckling to herself quietly, she thinks about how much she's changed over the years. In the past, she would've put her keys into the little key mug neatly placed at the corner of the posh lamp table beside the couch.
Its not like she doesn't care about her compulsive need to clean and organize anymore, it just…with all the workloads and inter-continent relocations this year, she doesn't have the time to do so. Besides, what is the point of cleansing the apartment spotless if she suddenly has to pack up and move to another country the next day?
Then again, she's been living here for three months now, and it doesn't look like she's going anywhere until her restaurant gets enough publicity and is capable to function steadily on it's own.
"Maybe I should do some major cleaning and rearranging later on today," she mumbles to herself thoughtfully.
Thinking about her tragic experience with lousy house cleaners, she shudders and starts picking up magazines from the floor. If she wants something to be done right, she has to do it by herself…other people just wreck stuff.
She then smiles to herself as her bitter thoughts are replaced by mischievous ones. After all, experts do say that women get more satisfaction out of cleaning than out of sex…well, not if its really good sex…
Holding the magazines loosely in her hand, she sits on the edge of the couch in trance. After a while, she shakes her head violently in attempt to stop her mind from transporting her back into the past, which seems like lifetimes ago. Unfortunately, the gate has already opened, and she leans back onto the couch and let her memories freely flood through her mind.
"Mon? It's Sam. Pick up the phone." A sharp voice suddenly blares out from the telephone, and brings her back to the present. Apparently, she was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she doesn't even hear the phone ringing.
"Come on, I know you're there, you're just trying to ignore me so that you can have the rest of the day off. Well, don't worry, I promise you that I won't drag you back to the restaurant this time." The voice begs rather desperately.
"Yeah right." She retorts as she walks into the kitchen and puts the magazines into the recycling bin.
"Fine. I'll just come over to your place. I'm only a floor away from you anyway. You haven't seen the last of me yet, Geller!" With a click following by a beep, the apartment returns to the usual silence again.
She rolls her eyes and pours herself a glass of water. Knowing how lazy Sam is, she can almost be sure that she will soon receive another call from her partner/manager/therapist/ extremely annoying friend.
Just as she predicted, the phone rings again. Unwilling to deal with her friend at the moment, she takes a sip of water as she waits for Sam to leave another two-hour on and off message on her answering machine.
"Um…hi, its me." The shattering of the glass hitting the floor resounds the apartment as Monica hears another voice instead of Sam's, an unexpected, and yet familiar voice.
"I know we don't talk anymore, but…something came up, and I really think that you should know about it." The voice continues awkwardly.
Unaware of the broken glass, or the water splattered all over the floor, she walks toward the phone, stunned. She touches the phone indecisively as contemplates whether to pick up it or not. Somehow, all she can do is to stand by and let her old friend talk as if she loses the strength to lift the damn thing up.
"Uh…my number is still the same as three years ago…so if this is still your current phone number and you actually get this message, call me back as soon as possible. Its urgent." The voice pauses for a moment, thinking about saying more, but decides against it at the end and hangs up.
Monica stands there for a long while, hand remains on the phone. Taking a deep breath, she picks up the phone and dials. Remembering the past is one thing, but actually facing it, risking the chance of letting loose her repressed feelings…that's another thing. Uncertain if she's ready to open Pandora's box, she braced herself as she waits. She is about to hang up when that familiar perky voice of her old friend answers the phone.
"Hi Phoebe…"
* * *
Back To New York
Evelyn Taylor walked glamorously into the elite restaurant. Oblivious to the admiring glances all the men are giving her, she scans the restaurant carefully. She smiles when she spots him sitting in a secluded corner, typing away busily into his laptop as usual.
Shaking her head lightly, she walks toward the corner and hugs him from behind.
"Hey you." She greets him as she kisses him on the cheek, "Sorry I'm late…taping took longer than I expected."
"Tapings always take you longer than expected." He teases her sarcastically as she takes her seat across from him.
She flinches at his remark, and asks apologetically, "Oh no, did you wait long?"
Looking at her worried expression, he can't help but laughs out loud. Sometimes he wonders how she can succeed in that profession of hers with such naivety. Then again, her silky hair and exceedingly beautiful features speak for themselves. She is the antithesis of his ex-wife. Blond, tall, sexily messy…the only things they have in common are their sensuous blue eyes, which are so mesmerizing that he often gets lost in them.
"Its okay Evie, I know well enough to bring my little companion with me." He comments contently as he pads his laptop before putting it away.
"I really hope you try to turn women on as frequently as you turn that thing on." She refers to his laptop with attempted sarcasm as the waiter pours her a glass of white wine.
"Why don't you try me…I can give it to you real good, Miss Taylor." He responds flirtatiously.
"Oh you better watch your mouth, Mr. Bing. I fear that you won't be able to handle it if I do decided to try you." She flirts back.
"Never fear my dear, handle is the middle part of my first name!" He jokes, vaguely reminiscing the last time he said the exact same thing. That was light years ago…
She giggles that giggle of hers with that famous sparkle in her eyes, and asks, "How do you do it?"
"Do what?" He asks back.
"Making me laugh no matter what kind of hellish day I have!" She replies appreciatively.
"He's giving you a hard time again, huh?" He asks sensitively.
"Him? Giving ME trouble? Never!" She retorts irritably.
"Okay, spill it. What did he do now?" He presses on.
Sighing heavily, Evie says, "Oh nothing out of the ordinary…he just broke up with me."
"Again?" He asks in astonishment, "What did you do?"
"Nothing!" She answers loudly, "All I said was how nice Katie's wedding was…and…and he freaked out and tell me that we needed a break because things are getting too serious."
"Well, it is not the first time he did that, you know…I'm sure he'll come around, like he did many times before." He takes her hand in his reassuringly.
"Look, I put up with him for 16 months and I am quite used to him breaking up with me by now. It's just…today, he had the nerve to ask me to go to Italy with him…" Unable to control her anger, Evie blabs on incessantly.
"Well good! He came around after all!" He interrupts.
"AS friends." She finishes her sentence.
"Oh…ouch!" He looks at her sympathetically.
"But you know what? I am going to go with him!" She says with determination.
"Evie, why would you do that?" He questions her decision with concern.
"If he's going to spend time looking at beautiful naked women on the beach, I'm going to make sure one of them is me!" She pauses to think for a moment, and continues, "Okay, that is ridiculous…but I can't help it. I love him, Chandler, and I know he loves me too. I just don't understand why does he keep on running away every time he feels that I'm getting too close."
Deep in thought, he replies sadly, "Love is a silly thing isn't it? Its absolutely irrational…and you don't get to choose it, IT chooses you…"
Evie looks at Chandler intently. She knows from the first moment she saw him that he is pretty much on the same boat with her, always pining away for that somebody. The only difference is: Her somebody always comes back. His never did.
Chandler's thoughts are interfered by the waiter, who starts to take orders from them. He is glad he was interrupted. He isn't sure if he can handle thinking about Monica the second time in a row this evening.
After the waiter is gone, he leans forward and asks, "When are you going to go?"
"Well, he's going to start filming there next week. And I'm going to join him as soon as the Season Finale is over." She answers, and before he says anything else, she adds, "I'm going to miss you."
"Don't say that. You don't want to break my heart now do you?" He says lightly, trying to brighten up the mood between them.
"Isn't your heart already broken? Besides, it's not mine to break in the first place." She comments honestly.
"What do you mean?" He asks alarmingly.
"They used to say that all the good ones are gone, but now, it looks like all the good ones don't want to go…why?" She asks him tactfully.
"What makes you think all the ones that stayed are good ones?" He answers a question with a question.
"You're good." She states firmly.
"Then you obviously don't know me as well as you should." He responds as he leans back onto the chair.
"Come on Chandler, or shall I say Mr. The Most Eligible Bachelor of the Year," Evelyn persuades, "you are charming, funny, cute…and not mention rich. So you can be annoying sometimes, but my point is: there are thousands of women out there who would love to be the object of your affection. And yet you always hide in your penthouse with that stupid laptop of yours!"
"Hey! My work is my life. And that laptop is the only thing that I feel I have control over even though everything around me has gone insane…" He begins to justify.
"Oh I'm sorry I insulted your 'companion'!" She interrupts him mockingly, then, she softens her tones and resumes talking, "Don't you feel lonely being on top of the world all by yourself? If you're still madly in love with her, go find her and resolve this whole pathetic situation, otherwise, move on and give other women a chance."
Taking a deep breath, he calmly explains, "My ex-wife makes a career out of leaving me. Do you know how hard it is for me to deal with that? To tell you the truth, I've lost faith in love long time ago. I have been to hell and back and I am not about to go back there again. Not for her, not for anyone."
"Not even if she comes back for you?" Evelyn asks curiously.
Chandler stares into her mesmerizing blue eyes for a long while, and out of a moment of spite and vanity, he replies sternly…
"No, never again."
* * *
Cut Back To Rome
Hanging up the phone slowly, Monica leans on the wall for support. She can't believe what Phoebe just told her. It sounds so…surreal.
Slowly, she slides down and sits on the floor as she leans her head back against the wall. Her mind keeps on replaying Phoebe's voice over and over again, still trying to register the news.
"This can't be real." She tells herself quietly.
"What can't be real?" Another voice asked suddenly.
Surprised and shocked, she jumps to her feet and sighs immediately in relief after she recognize whom her unexpected intruder is.
"Samantha, don't you ever knock? You scare the hell out of me!" She exclaims in annoyance.
"I did! When you didn't answer the door, I just came in anyway." Sam shrugs casually and makes herself comfortable by plopping on the sofa. Then, she stares at Monica for a brief moment before she asks with curiosity, "So, what can't be real?"
Ignoring her inquiries, Monica questions the presence of her friend tiredly, "Sam, what do want from me? And please don't tell me its work related, 'cause the past two days have really tired me out…I just don't think I have the energy to deal with it right now."
After this comment, she goes into the kitchen to clean up the mess she made just moments ago.
"Mon, for as long as you know me, have I ever talked about anything other than work?" She pauses to listen for any reaction from her friend for a second before she continues, "Well, I am sorry to disappoint you, but it looks like we are ready to take on Asia."
Instantaneously, Monica emerges from the kitchen, towel in hand, and asks in astonishment, "That soon? What about the restaurant here?"
"It looks like we've got good publicity here, and it is perfectly fine running on its own. So we're set for Japan next week…"
As Sam's words fades into the back of her mind, Monica can't help but to think about her conversation with Phoebe. All of a sudden, as if a light bulb lights up inside of her head, she knows what she has to do.
"Sam…" She interrupts, softly at first.
"If all goes well in Japan, we'll move to Hong Kong, then Shanghai…" Sam continues with excitement.
"Sam!" Monica says loudly in order to get her friend's attention.
Confused, Sam stops to look at her. Somehow, she has the feeling that she is not going to like what her partner is going to say.
Taking a deep breath, Monica declares resolutely, "We are not going to Asia, not yet anyway."
"What? Why?" Sam questions alarmingly. She knew it!
"I am tired," Monica states with a sigh, "I want to go home."
* * *
What did Phoebe tell Monica that makes her want to go home immediately? Well, I guess you will find out in part two!!!
I am kind of stuck after this part, so any suggestion as to what happens to C & M afterwards will be greatly appreciated!!!
By: Kit
Disclaimer- With the exception of Evie and Sam, all the other characters do not belong to me….blah, blah, blah…and I do not make a cent for doing this…blah, blah, blah….
Author's Note- This is the hardest thing I've ever written and I still don't know if I should put it up…so please be tell me if you like it or not and send me feedbacks!!! I'd appreciate it very much.
New York- 2002
Waiting. That's what she's been doing for the past two hours, waiting for the inevitable. If someone had asked her a year, or even six months ago, never in a million years would she even thought of doing this. But now, the more she thinks about it, the more certain she feels about her decision.
Painstakingly, she ponders over and over again about her choice, and the only justification for her impending action is that she needs a break to find herself, to be free. Free from her work, from this apartment, from her friends and family…from him.
She straightens herself up quickly from the chair when she hears the door opens and her husband's figure enters wearily into the apartment.
Upon seeing how his eyes light up at the sight of her, she almost recoils from her decision. However, the little voices in her stubborn mind are urging her to carry out the deed.
"Boy am I glad to see you, I've had THE worst day…." He pauses immediately when he notices the suitcase beside the kitchen table.
"What is going on?" He questions her alarmingly.
"I…I have to…" She shakes her head to think of a better way to say it, but there IS no better way to tell him without causing him pain.
"I am leaving." She blurts out finally. The words sound so much colder out of her mouth than in her head when she rehearsed them.
As soon as those words come out of her mouth, he just stood still like a dummy. From that point on, everything seems so unreal to him. A brief moment later, the initial shock, confusion and numbness are soon replaced by tremendous pain, like he has been stabbed with a million knives.
"Wh…why?" That's all he manages to stutter.
Why. She sighs sadly as she repeats the word to herself. Why. How can such a simple question be render by so many complicated answers? There are numerous explanations for her leaving, professionally, personally…maybe even spiritually. Despite all her preparations for this dreadful moment, she is unable to answer him. Seeing him like this makes her utterly speechless; it breaks her heart as much as she breaks his.
Guiltily, she lowers her head as he starts to pace uncontrollably between the kitchen and the living room.
"Look, I know we have our problems lately…but this?" He stops and refers to her suitcase. "This is ridiculous! Whatever problems we may have, we can always deal with them like we used to do, there is no need to…"
"This isn't about us!" She interrupts him frustratingly.
"Well why don't you tell me what the hell is this all about then!" He says loudly, furious at her sudden irrational resolution to leave him.
"Chandler, I…" She opens her month to speak, but she can't think of anything to say but four words. Four words which did not exist in her vocabularies once upon a time; four words she never thought she would say, especially to him.
Taking a deep breath, she gathers up the courage and stares into his eyes firmly to tell what she has intended to tell him for the past three and a half months.
"I want a divorce."
* * *
Three Years Later- New York
Work is the only thing over which he feels he has complete control and power. It is a great form of therapy.
As he types relentlessly into his laptop, he can literally forget where he is, why he is there and whom he is supposed to see. Most importantly, if he focuses really, really hard, he can almost put the image of her out of his mind. Almost.
In hopes of getting rid of this inerasable remembrance of her, he continues to work with increasing intensity, concentration and effort. Despite of the enormous success he has obtained professionally, he often asks himself why does he work so damn hard in the first place anyway.
After all these years, he just can't seem to forget about her. No matter how much work he does, he fails miserably to block her out of his life, out of his mind. Everything he sees, everywhere he goes, everyone he meets…there are always little traces that remind him of her compulsive tidiness and insanely competitive ways; and his senses are still longing for on the aroma of her hair, the touch of her skin, the taste of her lips, the sound of her laughter, and the way she used to smile at him. Most of all, the emptiness she left him when she walked out of that door still exists.
Jadedly, he leans back into the chair and messages his temples with a sigh as memory rewinds and plays itself vividly in his mind one more time.
* * *
Flashback to 2002
"Don't you remember the promise I made to you?" He ran his hand through his hair frustratingly. "Monica, I will do anything to make you happy, you know that."
"Happy? Chandler, I…I haven't been happy for a very, very long time." She stated slowly and sorrowfully, "I am miserable!"
"Then tell me how the hell to fix it!" He shouted loudly as he resumed pacing back and forth in front of his wife, who took a step back involuntarily as a result of his outburst. Searching for answers, he rambled on, "Is it because I work too much? Or…or is it because I don't pay enough attention to you? Whatever it is, giving up is NOT the solution." He paused to look at her determinedly, "Our marriage is worth more than that!"
She lifted her head to look directly at her husband, and continued with devastation, "Fine! You want to know what the problem is? I'll tell you exactly what it is."
Attempting to form words out of a thousand thoughts that flooded through her mind at the same time, she closed her eyes to set her head straight, then she carried on explaining, "Things change, people change. Everyone is going SOMEWHERE, doing SOMETHING. Look at you! You are getting promotions after promotions, raises after raises; Joey's show tops the ratings every week, not to mention the success of his new movie; Rachel is opening her own boutique with Ross, who is also running an award winning lab; Phoebe is getting record deals…and then there's me. I am sick and tired of not going anywhere!"
"What are you talking about?" He walked towards her and put his hands on her shoulders with as much assurance as he could. "You are the head chef of an awesome restaurant and an incredible wife…my wife."
"Have you ever had this feeling that something is missing from your life?" She asked as she slowly backed a few steps away from him. "Have you ever wanted to do something crazy? Something…something that's completely out of your own character?"
"And divorcing me is your idea of being adventurous." He commented sarcastically. If she really wanted to do something "crazy", why can't she go skydiving or something? He couldn't set his bitterness aside and listen to her ridiculous "reasons" anymore.
Oblivious to his remark, she slightly tilted her head pensively and continued to narrate; her tone was softer than before, "All my life, I have role of a caretaker. I've always known that there is something more out there, but in the mist of taking care of everyone else, I never have to time to take care of myself. I never really asked myself what it is that I want." She swallowed hard to rid of the lump in her throats and looked down at the wedding band on her finger.
"I try to ignored this feeling but it was eating me up inside, holding me back from loving you the way that I should." She slowly raised her head to find herself staring at a blurry image of him. She blinked her eyes to clarify the image, but the more she blinked, the blurrier he seemed.
Taken back by her sudden honesty, he could see a faint sparkle of inexplicable desire behind her tear-filled eyes. Somehow, those eyes were not looking at him anymore; they are staring straight past him, as if they are fixed on some place far away.
Attempting to hide her tears, she walked away from her husband. Even though it was in a midsummer's night, she hugged herself tightly with her arms to prevent the unusual chilliness from penetrating into her bones. Slowly, her right hand reached for her wedding band and reluctantly slid it off her finger.
He remained silent as he watched her intently. Throughout their marriage, he took pride in connecting with his wife so well. He thought he had that precious gift of knowing her inner thoughts and feelings just by observing her behaviours.
Nevertheless, it had never occurred to him that she actually felt this way.
She chuckled to herself sadly at the irony of their situation as she read the inscription of the ring.
"Lost and Found"
He was her true North, her compass. When that fog was finally lifted from her eyes, and she clearly saw him for the first time, not only did she find the one, she had found the way. She felt complete, knowing that she was also his rock.
As time went by, somewhere along the way, she got lost again. She had no idea where, when or how did she fell off that path from him, but she could practically feel that familiar void in her heart growing bigger and bigger everyday.
Then again, sometimes he would make her too content that she feared that, one day, it would be stripped away from her, and all she's left with are pieces of her broken heart that he carefully planned to weaved back into whole, but decided in the end that they weren't worth his time and effort.
Was she leaving him because of her desire for adventure? Or was it just an impulsive act of her increasingly irrational insecurity?
That was the worst part…she had no idea. All she knew was that she had to get away from him for a while. She needed time to herself, to think things over.
Avoiding his eyes, she kept her eyes on her ring as she walked toward him. She takes his hand and put her ring into his palm, and closed it firmly.
"Until I find out what the hell it is that's wrong with me, I can't do this. No, not to us, and certainly not to you." She spoke as calmly as she could, still hold his hand in hers.
He stared downheartedly at his wife, barely able to restrain tears from falling from his own eyes, and uttered desperately as he gestured to the home they had both made for themselves for the last 3 years, "I thought this is what you wanted."
Looking up, she whispered, more to herself than to him, "I thought so too."
"I should've known…" He choked out bitterly, "I mean, who am I to think that I would be the one to make you happy? For the past five years, I…I thought that this is the one relationship that would last, especially when I have you by my side. Who am I kidding? I can't even form a functional relationship with anyone, let alone a successful marriage with you!"
"No Chandler! Don't you DARE blaming this on yourself!" She cried as she brought her hands up to his face, "I want you to look at me…" she stared into his eyes as tears were falling freely from both of their faces, and she caressed his cheeks. "And know that none of this is your fault. You are so wonderful…and loving…God, you deserve so much better."
"If loving you means that I have to burn in Hell, then I wouldn't want it any other way." He stated stubbornly.
Lost for words, she just looked at him in awe. Before she knows it, her mouth was pressed passionately against his. She didn't remember who had initiated their last kiss, but the sudden emotion that flooded through her body overwhelmed her. She could hear the alarming siren in her head blaring violently while her heart and her soul surrendered to his familiar touch. She hungrily kissed him back, knowing perfectly well that she shouldn't look into his amazing blue eyes in the first place. She ran her hands through his hair, imprinting in her mind how soft it felt to touch his hair as more tears slid down her face, betraying her tightly closed eyes.
Regardless of how much she was hurting him at the moment, there was always something about her hidden vulnerability that made him wanted to prevent HER from harm. Gently, he kissed her eyes and cheeks in an effort to kiss her tears away. Attempting to keep their world, well, HIS world at least, from falling apart, he slipped his hands around her waist firmly, momentarily forgetting her ring that was still in his palm.
The clatter of the ring hitting the floor echoed the apartment. It was like a wake up call for her. Quickly, she pushed him away while mentally scolding herself. Part of her cursed her for temporarily losing her mind and throwing her self-control out of the window in a heat of passion, but the other part of her reproached her for pulling away from what was the most intense and remarkable kiss of their relationship. Ironic, isn't it?
Filled with desire, he stepped toward her and took her face in his hands. He gazed into her eyes for a while before planting a kiss on her forehand. Then, sighing heavily, he rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes.
"Don't leave me." He whispered.
She wrapped her arms around his waist and held on to him tightly as she rested her head on his shoulder. She remained quiet for a while as she felt his hands gently rubbing her back. Sighing heavily, she gave him her final answer, fully aware that this is the point of no return in their imminent separation.
He could literally felt his heart being ripped into a million pieces when her reply, barely audible, was breathed into his ear.
"I'm sorry." She said.
Before he even had a chance to react, she hastily broke away from him. She picked up her suitcase and walked out on him without even looking back.
* * *
Rome, Italy- 2005
Wearily, she walks into her apartment and closes the door behind her with a sigh. It's six o'clock in the morning, and she hasn't slept at all in the past 48 hours. She treads across her relatively modern apartment and collapses on the sofa, throwing her keys on the coffee table uncaringly in doing so.
Chuckling to herself quietly, she thinks about how much she's changed over the years. In the past, she would've put her keys into the little key mug neatly placed at the corner of the posh lamp table beside the couch.
Its not like she doesn't care about her compulsive need to clean and organize anymore, it just…with all the workloads and inter-continent relocations this year, she doesn't have the time to do so. Besides, what is the point of cleansing the apartment spotless if she suddenly has to pack up and move to another country the next day?
Then again, she's been living here for three months now, and it doesn't look like she's going anywhere until her restaurant gets enough publicity and is capable to function steadily on it's own.
"Maybe I should do some major cleaning and rearranging later on today," she mumbles to herself thoughtfully.
Thinking about her tragic experience with lousy house cleaners, she shudders and starts picking up magazines from the floor. If she wants something to be done right, she has to do it by herself…other people just wreck stuff.
She then smiles to herself as her bitter thoughts are replaced by mischievous ones. After all, experts do say that women get more satisfaction out of cleaning than out of sex…well, not if its really good sex…
Holding the magazines loosely in her hand, she sits on the edge of the couch in trance. After a while, she shakes her head violently in attempt to stop her mind from transporting her back into the past, which seems like lifetimes ago. Unfortunately, the gate has already opened, and she leans back onto the couch and let her memories freely flood through her mind.
"Mon? It's Sam. Pick up the phone." A sharp voice suddenly blares out from the telephone, and brings her back to the present. Apparently, she was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she doesn't even hear the phone ringing.
"Come on, I know you're there, you're just trying to ignore me so that you can have the rest of the day off. Well, don't worry, I promise you that I won't drag you back to the restaurant this time." The voice begs rather desperately.
"Yeah right." She retorts as she walks into the kitchen and puts the magazines into the recycling bin.
"Fine. I'll just come over to your place. I'm only a floor away from you anyway. You haven't seen the last of me yet, Geller!" With a click following by a beep, the apartment returns to the usual silence again.
She rolls her eyes and pours herself a glass of water. Knowing how lazy Sam is, she can almost be sure that she will soon receive another call from her partner/manager/therapist/ extremely annoying friend.
Just as she predicted, the phone rings again. Unwilling to deal with her friend at the moment, she takes a sip of water as she waits for Sam to leave another two-hour on and off message on her answering machine.
"Um…hi, its me." The shattering of the glass hitting the floor resounds the apartment as Monica hears another voice instead of Sam's, an unexpected, and yet familiar voice.
"I know we don't talk anymore, but…something came up, and I really think that you should know about it." The voice continues awkwardly.
Unaware of the broken glass, or the water splattered all over the floor, she walks toward the phone, stunned. She touches the phone indecisively as contemplates whether to pick up it or not. Somehow, all she can do is to stand by and let her old friend talk as if she loses the strength to lift the damn thing up.
"Uh…my number is still the same as three years ago…so if this is still your current phone number and you actually get this message, call me back as soon as possible. Its urgent." The voice pauses for a moment, thinking about saying more, but decides against it at the end and hangs up.
Monica stands there for a long while, hand remains on the phone. Taking a deep breath, she picks up the phone and dials. Remembering the past is one thing, but actually facing it, risking the chance of letting loose her repressed feelings…that's another thing. Uncertain if she's ready to open Pandora's box, she braced herself as she waits. She is about to hang up when that familiar perky voice of her old friend answers the phone.
"Hi Phoebe…"
* * *
Back To New York
Evelyn Taylor walked glamorously into the elite restaurant. Oblivious to the admiring glances all the men are giving her, she scans the restaurant carefully. She smiles when she spots him sitting in a secluded corner, typing away busily into his laptop as usual.
Shaking her head lightly, she walks toward the corner and hugs him from behind.
"Hey you." She greets him as she kisses him on the cheek, "Sorry I'm late…taping took longer than I expected."
"Tapings always take you longer than expected." He teases her sarcastically as she takes her seat across from him.
She flinches at his remark, and asks apologetically, "Oh no, did you wait long?"
Looking at her worried expression, he can't help but laughs out loud. Sometimes he wonders how she can succeed in that profession of hers with such naivety. Then again, her silky hair and exceedingly beautiful features speak for themselves. She is the antithesis of his ex-wife. Blond, tall, sexily messy…the only things they have in common are their sensuous blue eyes, which are so mesmerizing that he often gets lost in them.
"Its okay Evie, I know well enough to bring my little companion with me." He comments contently as he pads his laptop before putting it away.
"I really hope you try to turn women on as frequently as you turn that thing on." She refers to his laptop with attempted sarcasm as the waiter pours her a glass of white wine.
"Why don't you try me…I can give it to you real good, Miss Taylor." He responds flirtatiously.
"Oh you better watch your mouth, Mr. Bing. I fear that you won't be able to handle it if I do decided to try you." She flirts back.
"Never fear my dear, handle is the middle part of my first name!" He jokes, vaguely reminiscing the last time he said the exact same thing. That was light years ago…
She giggles that giggle of hers with that famous sparkle in her eyes, and asks, "How do you do it?"
"Do what?" He asks back.
"Making me laugh no matter what kind of hellish day I have!" She replies appreciatively.
"He's giving you a hard time again, huh?" He asks sensitively.
"Him? Giving ME trouble? Never!" She retorts irritably.
"Okay, spill it. What did he do now?" He presses on.
Sighing heavily, Evie says, "Oh nothing out of the ordinary…he just broke up with me."
"Again?" He asks in astonishment, "What did you do?"
"Nothing!" She answers loudly, "All I said was how nice Katie's wedding was…and…and he freaked out and tell me that we needed a break because things are getting too serious."
"Well, it is not the first time he did that, you know…I'm sure he'll come around, like he did many times before." He takes her hand in his reassuringly.
"Look, I put up with him for 16 months and I am quite used to him breaking up with me by now. It's just…today, he had the nerve to ask me to go to Italy with him…" Unable to control her anger, Evie blabs on incessantly.
"Well good! He came around after all!" He interrupts.
"AS friends." She finishes her sentence.
"Oh…ouch!" He looks at her sympathetically.
"But you know what? I am going to go with him!" She says with determination.
"Evie, why would you do that?" He questions her decision with concern.
"If he's going to spend time looking at beautiful naked women on the beach, I'm going to make sure one of them is me!" She pauses to think for a moment, and continues, "Okay, that is ridiculous…but I can't help it. I love him, Chandler, and I know he loves me too. I just don't understand why does he keep on running away every time he feels that I'm getting too close."
Deep in thought, he replies sadly, "Love is a silly thing isn't it? Its absolutely irrational…and you don't get to choose it, IT chooses you…"
Evie looks at Chandler intently. She knows from the first moment she saw him that he is pretty much on the same boat with her, always pining away for that somebody. The only difference is: Her somebody always comes back. His never did.
Chandler's thoughts are interfered by the waiter, who starts to take orders from them. He is glad he was interrupted. He isn't sure if he can handle thinking about Monica the second time in a row this evening.
After the waiter is gone, he leans forward and asks, "When are you going to go?"
"Well, he's going to start filming there next week. And I'm going to join him as soon as the Season Finale is over." She answers, and before he says anything else, she adds, "I'm going to miss you."
"Don't say that. You don't want to break my heart now do you?" He says lightly, trying to brighten up the mood between them.
"Isn't your heart already broken? Besides, it's not mine to break in the first place." She comments honestly.
"What do you mean?" He asks alarmingly.
"They used to say that all the good ones are gone, but now, it looks like all the good ones don't want to go…why?" She asks him tactfully.
"What makes you think all the ones that stayed are good ones?" He answers a question with a question.
"You're good." She states firmly.
"Then you obviously don't know me as well as you should." He responds as he leans back onto the chair.
"Come on Chandler, or shall I say Mr. The Most Eligible Bachelor of the Year," Evelyn persuades, "you are charming, funny, cute…and not mention rich. So you can be annoying sometimes, but my point is: there are thousands of women out there who would love to be the object of your affection. And yet you always hide in your penthouse with that stupid laptop of yours!"
"Hey! My work is my life. And that laptop is the only thing that I feel I have control over even though everything around me has gone insane…" He begins to justify.
"Oh I'm sorry I insulted your 'companion'!" She interrupts him mockingly, then, she softens her tones and resumes talking, "Don't you feel lonely being on top of the world all by yourself? If you're still madly in love with her, go find her and resolve this whole pathetic situation, otherwise, move on and give other women a chance."
Taking a deep breath, he calmly explains, "My ex-wife makes a career out of leaving me. Do you know how hard it is for me to deal with that? To tell you the truth, I've lost faith in love long time ago. I have been to hell and back and I am not about to go back there again. Not for her, not for anyone."
"Not even if she comes back for you?" Evelyn asks curiously.
Chandler stares into her mesmerizing blue eyes for a long while, and out of a moment of spite and vanity, he replies sternly…
"No, never again."
* * *
Cut Back To Rome
Hanging up the phone slowly, Monica leans on the wall for support. She can't believe what Phoebe just told her. It sounds so…surreal.
Slowly, she slides down and sits on the floor as she leans her head back against the wall. Her mind keeps on replaying Phoebe's voice over and over again, still trying to register the news.
"This can't be real." She tells herself quietly.
"What can't be real?" Another voice asked suddenly.
Surprised and shocked, she jumps to her feet and sighs immediately in relief after she recognize whom her unexpected intruder is.
"Samantha, don't you ever knock? You scare the hell out of me!" She exclaims in annoyance.
"I did! When you didn't answer the door, I just came in anyway." Sam shrugs casually and makes herself comfortable by plopping on the sofa. Then, she stares at Monica for a brief moment before she asks with curiosity, "So, what can't be real?"
Ignoring her inquiries, Monica questions the presence of her friend tiredly, "Sam, what do want from me? And please don't tell me its work related, 'cause the past two days have really tired me out…I just don't think I have the energy to deal with it right now."
After this comment, she goes into the kitchen to clean up the mess she made just moments ago.
"Mon, for as long as you know me, have I ever talked about anything other than work?" She pauses to listen for any reaction from her friend for a second before she continues, "Well, I am sorry to disappoint you, but it looks like we are ready to take on Asia."
Instantaneously, Monica emerges from the kitchen, towel in hand, and asks in astonishment, "That soon? What about the restaurant here?"
"It looks like we've got good publicity here, and it is perfectly fine running on its own. So we're set for Japan next week…"
As Sam's words fades into the back of her mind, Monica can't help but to think about her conversation with Phoebe. All of a sudden, as if a light bulb lights up inside of her head, she knows what she has to do.
"Sam…" She interrupts, softly at first.
"If all goes well in Japan, we'll move to Hong Kong, then Shanghai…" Sam continues with excitement.
"Sam!" Monica says loudly in order to get her friend's attention.
Confused, Sam stops to look at her. Somehow, she has the feeling that she is not going to like what her partner is going to say.
Taking a deep breath, Monica declares resolutely, "We are not going to Asia, not yet anyway."
"What? Why?" Sam questions alarmingly. She knew it!
"I am tired," Monica states with a sigh, "I want to go home."
* * *
What did Phoebe tell Monica that makes her want to go home immediately? Well, I guess you will find out in part two!!!
I am kind of stuck after this part, so any suggestion as to what happens to C & M afterwards will be greatly appreciated!!!