The Broken Hearts
Monica came home from work later than usual. In the cab on the way home she made up the story she would tell Chandler. She'd tell him they'd had a big party being held at the restaurant and she'd had to stay late. Similar things had happened before, and Chandler had always understood. Hiding the truth from him tonight would be the hardest thing she had ever had to do in her life. But hiding it from him for the rest of their lives would be harder still. It was almost eleven o'clock, but Joey and Rachel were still in the apartment, as well as Chandler. They were all watching TV.
"Hey, honey, where've you been?" Chandler asked, greeting her with a kiss. Monica pulled away from his gentle touch. She saw the hurt on his face, even though he tried to hide it from Joey and Rachel.
"I had to stay late at work," Monica lied. "I'm exhausted, I think I'll just go straight to bed."
"Are you alright? You look really pooped," Rachel said, concerned. "Maybe you're sickening for something."
"Maybe," Monica shrugged, it was as good an excuse as any.
"I don't wanna catch anything! I have a big audition tomorrow!" Joey exclaimed. He jumped to his feet and backed away from Monica.
"I'd better go too. See you guys tomorrow," Rachel said as she and Joey left.
"Mon, are you sure you're okay?" Chandler asked, touching her cheek. Monica nodded.
"I'm fine. I just need to get some sleep," she assured him.
"Okay. If you don't mind, I wanna finish watching this, it just goes on for another half an hour, then I'll be right in," Chandler said. He played with a loose strand of Monica's hair. She concentrated on not flinching away from his touch.
"Sure," Monica said. She let him kiss her cheek, then watched as he sat down on the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table.
"'night honey," Chandler said.
"'night," she answered, and went into the bedroom, where she lay down on the bed. She burried her face in the pillows, but to her surprise, no tears came. She supposed she had no more tears left to cry. She didn't try to fall asleep, but she did so anyway, lying fully dressed on top of the blanket. When Chandler came in, he tried not to disturb her, but his weight on the bed woke her up, and she sat up, blinking.
"Huh?" she mumbled sleepily.
"You feel asleep," Chandler told her gently.
"I did?" she asked, confused.
"Uh huh," Chandler nodded. Monica saw the look of concern on his face, and it made her want to cry. Chandler put his arms around her and pulled her close to him. He craddled her head against his shoulder and gently rubbed her back. "Shh, its okay. What's the matter Mon?" She wanted so badly to tell him, but she knew she couldn't; if she told him, she risked losing him forever. Instead she just sat in the warm, comforting circle of his arms and bit back the tears, but when she caught a whiff of his familiar smell, she couldn't help herself, and she began to cry. "Mon? What is it? Monica, why are you crying?" he asked, so tenderly, with so much love in his voice that Monica pushed him away, almost as if she was angry with him for loving her so much.
"Please Chandler, just let it go," she begged. She didn't want to tell him, not because she was afraid of what he would inevitably think of her, but because she knew it would hurt him so badly, and she didn't want to do that to him. She loved him way too much to ever want to hurt him.
"No, I won't just let it go. Come on Mon, there's obviously something upsetting you. So why don't you just tell me?" he said encouragingly, even though his face showed a flicker of hurt when she jerked away from him. He refused to give up, though, and reached out to comfort her.
"Please, Chandler," she said again. Monica turned her face away, so she didn't have to see the pain that she knew would be there. She hated that she had to hurt him, hated that he would forgive her without a second thought because he was so concerned about her, she hated him for loving her so much that he kept trying to comfort her, even though she knew she couldn't withstand his gentle pressure for much longer, and when she told him, he would never love her again.
"Okay, okay Mon, I'm sorry. You tell me when you're ready, okay?" Chandler said, accepting the fact that she wasn't ready to talk yet. He longed to reach out to her, to brush her hair away from her damp cheeks, to kiss away her tears, to hold her tightly as if she was a child and rock her gently, and tell her it would be okay, but he thought she would just pull away from him again, and he was afraid of her rejection. "You will tell me won't you?" he asked quietly. Monica didn't answer. She couldn't lie to him, she never had been able to, but she knew she couldn't tell him. Chandler seemed to interrpret her silence as a 'probably not, but I don't want to hurt you're feelings by telling you', and sighed softly. Why did she feel she couldn't talk to him anymore? What was so awfull that she had to hide it from him?
Monica suddenly got up and left the room. Chandler sighed, but didn't follow her. He was fed up of being ignored when he was only trying to help. She was too goddamn stubborn, that was her trouble. Monica lent against the closed bedroom door and harshly wiped away her tears with the back of her hand, but it was no good, because more tears soon fell to replace those that she had wiped away.
Chandler slowly changed into his pyjamas and got into bed. He had decided not to wait up for her, since she might have decided to sleep on the couch, or at Joey and Rachel's. No, she wouldn't do that. They would let her stay, of course, but they would question her, wanting an explanation, which he knew she wouldn't give them, not if she couldn't even explain it to him. At least, he hoped she wouldn't be able to tell Rachel and Joey something she couldn't tell him.
Monica heard the bed creak as Chandler settled down under the covers. She was sitting on the window seat, staring out at the black sky, dotted with starlight, and the bright lights of the city. It was never really dark in New York City. Chandler tossed and turned for a whole, tortured hour, before Monica was confident he was asleep. She crept into the bedroom and stood over him.
His sandy brown hair was tousseled, no doubt from his restless attempts to get some sleep. His face was flushed with sleep, but it hurt Monica to see the look of pain it wore, even though Chandler was asleep. She knelt next to him on the floor, and reached a hand up to stroke his cheek. She ran her fingers through his hair, as if she wanted to remember the feeling forever.
"Oh God Chandler, if only you knew," she whispered. "I love you." Monica kissed his cheek softly, then she got ready for bed and slipped under the covers beside him. She desperately wanted to put her arms around him, press her body against his and hold him tight, but she knew it was all impossible.
The next morning when Monica woke up, Chandler was gone. She touched his pillow, which was still warm, and, feeling ridiculous as she did so, leaned down and breathed in the calming smell of him. When she did get up and go out into the living room, Chandler was sitting in the kitchen drinking a cup of coffee.
"Morning," he said cheerfully. During his wakefull hours the previous night, Chandler had decided not to press Monica to tell him whatever it was that was bothering her, to act as though nothing was wrong, and hope that she would tell him in her own time.
"Morning, honey," she said. If he could make the effort, so could she, although it pained her more than she could say to call him'honey'.
"You want some coffee?" Chandler offered.
"No thanks, I have to get to work," Monica lied.
"Okay, do you know what time you'll be home tonight?" he asked, accepting the lie with the innocence of a child.
"Hopefully I'll get away at nine, so I should be home by half past. But if we have a busy night, it could be as late as eleven," she said.
"Well Joey and I have a guy's night out planned, so you might actually beat me home," Chandler told her. Monica smiled weakly.
"'Kay, i really have to go now," Monica said. She started to walk about, but felt Chandler's hand on her arm, pulling her back. She turned, afraid of what he would say. Her fear must have shown in her eyes, because he suddenly looked very sad.
"Bye," he said, pulling her closer for a kiss. She kissed him back, relieved that things seemed to be back to normal.
Chandler watched as Monica left, not realising until she had gone that it was supposed to be her day off. He narrowed his eyes at the closed door, wondering if she knew. She had been pretty tired all week, so it wouldn't have surprised him if she had forgotten. But she had been looking forward to today for several days. Surely she would have remembered.
Monica had remembered. She knew perfectly well that she had the day off. And she planned on going home at lunchtime. She would tell Chandler she stayed for a few hours because they were short staffed, but then someone else came in, so she was free to come home. But for the moment, she had somewhere else that she had to be.
The door swung open just as she stepped up to it, making her jump a little in surprise. A tired looking woman walked out and pushed past her, as if she didn't notice Monica standing there. A little shaken, Monica took a deep breath and walked into the plain white building. She went to the recpetion, and gave her name to a bored looking blonde woman with fingernails that were at least an inch long.
"Take a seat over there," the woman said, gesturing vaguely in the direction of a group of plastic blue chairs. Monica forced her mouth into something resembling a smile, and sat down. There were only three other people waiting; a brunette with a toddler on her knee; a girl who couldn't have been more than sixteen, she even had a schoolbag with a maths textbook poking out of it sitting at her feet; and a worried looking man with glasses that he kept taking off and putting on again.
She waited twelve minutes, during which a harrassed looking couple came in and the teenager was called in. A woman came out and greeted the worried man with a hug. They had barely walked out of the door, when a voice called: "Monica Geller?" She jumped to her feet. This was it. Finally. She went into the smaller room.
"Ms Geller?" the doctor asked.
"Yes," she said, standing nervously in the doorway. the doctor, a tall man with dark hair that was greying at the temples walked behind her and shut the door. He sat down and gestured for her to do the same.
"So, you think you're pregnant?" he asked conversationally. Monica bit her lip and nodded. She hated the way he put it so bluntly. "Have you taken a home pregnancy test?" he asked. She hesitated for a second, then shook her head. Her hands fidgeted in her lap. "Why not?"
"My apartment is like Picadily Circus, i never have a moments privacy. Someone woudl be sure to find out," she said. By someone she really meant Chandler, but she hoped he wouldn't jump to that conclusion.
"Your friends? Family? Husband? Boyfriend?" he asked, looking at her closely.
"I'm not married," Monica said, chosing to focus on that, rather than admit that she didn't want anyone to find out she might be pregnant.
"But you have a boyfriend?" he asked, carefully neutral. monica nodded. "But you don't want him to find out? Why not?"
"I just don't want to get his hopes up until I know for sure," Monica lied quickly. She wasn't sure if the doctor believed her, but if he didn't, he decided to keep quiet about it, at least for the moment.
"Okay, well I'll check you over and do a blood test. I'll call you in a couple of days with the results," the doctor promised. Monica bit her lip in disappointment; she had hoped to find out for sure today. The stress of hiding it from Chandler was tearing her apart.
By the time Monica got home, it was almost eleven o'clock. Chandler was supposed to be at work, but had taken the day off 'sick'. He was sitting on the couch watching TV, and turned to grin at Monica when she entered the apartment. He had decided not to ask about why she had gone into work on her day off, unless she brought the subject up.
"Hey honey," he greeted her, smiling sunnily at her. She forced herself to smile back at him.
"Hi," she said. She took a soda out of the fridge. "You want one?" she offered. Chandler looked to see what she was getting, then shook his head.
"No thanks, hey, have a seat," she invited, patting the couch next to him. Monica obligingly sat down next to him. As he slid his arm around her and pulled her closer, she could almost forget the secret that could rip them apart, and she rested her head on his shoulder. He kissed her hair lightly, enjoying the quiet shared moment. They sat silently for a little while longer, until Monica remember the reason she had gone out that morning and pulled away. Chandler sighed, reluctant to let her go.
"What's the matter Mon?" he asked her softly. She shook her head. She didn't want to get into another thing like last night. Chandler got up and angrily pushed her away from him. "Fine. I'm going for a walk," he said and stormed towards the door.
"Chandler, please..." Monica called after him. He stopped briefly and looked at her, hoping she would explain everything, but she didn't speak another word, so he just turned sadly away and walked out. He wanted so badly to slam the door when he first stood up. But the look on Monica's face when she called out to him had destroyed all his anger, leaving only hurt and frustration that she didn't trust him enough to tell him.
Chandler left the building and walked briskly down the street. He had no idea where he was going, and he didn't really care either. It was raining slightly, and his glasses were spotted with raindrops, but he didn't even notice.
At about three o'clock, Chandler realised he was hungry. He stopped at the nearest coffee house and bought a BLT sandwhich and a coffee to go. He went to Central Park and sat down on a bench to eat his meagre lunch. He didn't move to get up, even after he finished eating, he just didn't feel in the mood to do anything anymore, not even wander around New York City.
"Hi," said a voice. A woman had sat down on the bench next to him. Chandler grunted in reply. He just wanted to be alone right now. And if any woman was sat next to him, he wanted it to be Monica. "Wow, aren't you a little ray of sunshine today?" she asked. Chandler didn't reply. he didn't want to be rude by asking her to leave, although he didn't want to encourage her to stay by talking to her. "Whats the matter?" the woman asked. Without waiting for an answer, she went on. "I bet I could make you feel better."
Chandler turned to her, shocked. She was leaning slightly forward, expecting his response. Chandler stood up and backed away. He wondered what the hell he was doing here. "Leave me alone," he said, surprising himself with how weak his voice sounded. He walked quickly away, hearing the womans laughter following him.
Monica was sitting on the couch when Chandler returned. She looked like she had been crying. Chandler stopped in the doorway and watched her for a few seconds, before he walked over to her. Silently, he hugged her tightly. Monica let him hold her for a little while, but it was her who pulled away first. When she did, Chandler looked at her for a moment, then leaned in and kissed her. Monica didn't pull away, so he deepened the kiss. Before long, they were in their bedroom making love.
Afterwards, with Chandler lying next to her, his fingers playing with her long dark hair, Monica felt increadibly guilty. Chandler was so obviously in love with her, she hated herself for hurting him. Tears filled her eyes for no real reason, and she blinked to hold them back. She also tensed slightly, which Chandler noticed. He sat up and studied her face intently.
"Mon?" he asked softly, hoping now would be the last time he had to see her cry and not know why and not be able to comfort her. Hoping that now she was ready to tell him what was on her mind. He reached a hand to her cheek, but Monica harshly pushed him away. She rolled over so she had her back to him and covered her mouth with her hand so he wouldn't hear her cry.
Chandler decided to leave her alone for a while. Not so much for her sake, but because he was so angry with her for not trusting him that he was afraid he might snap at her, or do something he'd regret. Over the last couple of days, there had been many times when he wanted to grab her and shake her, as if to shake the common sense to the front of her brain, that would tell her she could trust him.
Half an hour later, Monica emerged from the bedroom, dressed in clean clothes, with a small bag slung over her shoulder. Chandler lept up. He only saw the bag, and was terrified she was walking out on him. He rushed over and grabbed her, trying to stop her leaving. She stopped willingly enough and just looked at him strangely.
"Please don't go," he begged in a hoarse voice.
"Go where?" she asked, confused.
"You, you aren't leaving me?" he asked, childlike in his need for reassurance.
"No, of course not," Monica said with a smile. Although she couldn't stop the thought that pretty soon she might be the one begging Chandler not to go, springing to mind. Chandler hugged her tightly, as if he never wanted to let her out of his arms again.
"Whats the bag for then?" he asked.
"You really think I'd take this if I was leaving you? Because its so big and fits so much in it?" she said sarcastically, then stopped suddenly. Chandler had been really scared, it wasn't fair to make fun of him. "Sorry. No, I'm just going shopping with Rachel."
"Oh, okay," Chandler said, breathing a huge sigh of relief. He hugged her again and kissed the top of her head. Monica tilted her head upwards, so he could kiss her on the mouth.
Not until he had hugged her and kissed her a few more times would Chandler let go of her. When he did, Monica was careful to measure the speed of her retreat. Not too fast, or else he would think his panic had made her think he was over reacting. Not too slow, or he would pull her back for more assurances that she would come home.
She hated having to lie to him. There was nothing harder than lying to those puppy dog eyes that could turn blue, green or grey, seemingly at will, although she knew it was really just because of the way the light was shining on them. It had been almost more than she was capable of to reassure him, and let him hold her and kiss her because he was afraid she would leave him forever. And the single worst thing was that she was going straight from his soft, loving kisses into the arms of another man for intense, passionate kisses. That after promising Chandler she would never let him down, she was betraying him every minute she was with this other man.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Who is the other man? Keep guessing until part 2. Well, except for Anna, because it was her idea. Please review. Pretty please..?
Monica came home from work later than usual. In the cab on the way home she made up the story she would tell Chandler. She'd tell him they'd had a big party being held at the restaurant and she'd had to stay late. Similar things had happened before, and Chandler had always understood. Hiding the truth from him tonight would be the hardest thing she had ever had to do in her life. But hiding it from him for the rest of their lives would be harder still. It was almost eleven o'clock, but Joey and Rachel were still in the apartment, as well as Chandler. They were all watching TV.
"Hey, honey, where've you been?" Chandler asked, greeting her with a kiss. Monica pulled away from his gentle touch. She saw the hurt on his face, even though he tried to hide it from Joey and Rachel.
"I had to stay late at work," Monica lied. "I'm exhausted, I think I'll just go straight to bed."
"Are you alright? You look really pooped," Rachel said, concerned. "Maybe you're sickening for something."
"Maybe," Monica shrugged, it was as good an excuse as any.
"I don't wanna catch anything! I have a big audition tomorrow!" Joey exclaimed. He jumped to his feet and backed away from Monica.
"I'd better go too. See you guys tomorrow," Rachel said as she and Joey left.
"Mon, are you sure you're okay?" Chandler asked, touching her cheek. Monica nodded.
"I'm fine. I just need to get some sleep," she assured him.
"Okay. If you don't mind, I wanna finish watching this, it just goes on for another half an hour, then I'll be right in," Chandler said. He played with a loose strand of Monica's hair. She concentrated on not flinching away from his touch.
"Sure," Monica said. She let him kiss her cheek, then watched as he sat down on the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table.
"'night honey," Chandler said.
"'night," she answered, and went into the bedroom, where she lay down on the bed. She burried her face in the pillows, but to her surprise, no tears came. She supposed she had no more tears left to cry. She didn't try to fall asleep, but she did so anyway, lying fully dressed on top of the blanket. When Chandler came in, he tried not to disturb her, but his weight on the bed woke her up, and she sat up, blinking.
"Huh?" she mumbled sleepily.
"You feel asleep," Chandler told her gently.
"I did?" she asked, confused.
"Uh huh," Chandler nodded. Monica saw the look of concern on his face, and it made her want to cry. Chandler put his arms around her and pulled her close to him. He craddled her head against his shoulder and gently rubbed her back. "Shh, its okay. What's the matter Mon?" She wanted so badly to tell him, but she knew she couldn't; if she told him, she risked losing him forever. Instead she just sat in the warm, comforting circle of his arms and bit back the tears, but when she caught a whiff of his familiar smell, she couldn't help herself, and she began to cry. "Mon? What is it? Monica, why are you crying?" he asked, so tenderly, with so much love in his voice that Monica pushed him away, almost as if she was angry with him for loving her so much.
"Please Chandler, just let it go," she begged. She didn't want to tell him, not because she was afraid of what he would inevitably think of her, but because she knew it would hurt him so badly, and she didn't want to do that to him. She loved him way too much to ever want to hurt him.
"No, I won't just let it go. Come on Mon, there's obviously something upsetting you. So why don't you just tell me?" he said encouragingly, even though his face showed a flicker of hurt when she jerked away from him. He refused to give up, though, and reached out to comfort her.
"Please, Chandler," she said again. Monica turned her face away, so she didn't have to see the pain that she knew would be there. She hated that she had to hurt him, hated that he would forgive her without a second thought because he was so concerned about her, she hated him for loving her so much that he kept trying to comfort her, even though she knew she couldn't withstand his gentle pressure for much longer, and when she told him, he would never love her again.
"Okay, okay Mon, I'm sorry. You tell me when you're ready, okay?" Chandler said, accepting the fact that she wasn't ready to talk yet. He longed to reach out to her, to brush her hair away from her damp cheeks, to kiss away her tears, to hold her tightly as if she was a child and rock her gently, and tell her it would be okay, but he thought she would just pull away from him again, and he was afraid of her rejection. "You will tell me won't you?" he asked quietly. Monica didn't answer. She couldn't lie to him, she never had been able to, but she knew she couldn't tell him. Chandler seemed to interrpret her silence as a 'probably not, but I don't want to hurt you're feelings by telling you', and sighed softly. Why did she feel she couldn't talk to him anymore? What was so awfull that she had to hide it from him?
Monica suddenly got up and left the room. Chandler sighed, but didn't follow her. He was fed up of being ignored when he was only trying to help. She was too goddamn stubborn, that was her trouble. Monica lent against the closed bedroom door and harshly wiped away her tears with the back of her hand, but it was no good, because more tears soon fell to replace those that she had wiped away.
Chandler slowly changed into his pyjamas and got into bed. He had decided not to wait up for her, since she might have decided to sleep on the couch, or at Joey and Rachel's. No, she wouldn't do that. They would let her stay, of course, but they would question her, wanting an explanation, which he knew she wouldn't give them, not if she couldn't even explain it to him. At least, he hoped she wouldn't be able to tell Rachel and Joey something she couldn't tell him.
Monica heard the bed creak as Chandler settled down under the covers. She was sitting on the window seat, staring out at the black sky, dotted with starlight, and the bright lights of the city. It was never really dark in New York City. Chandler tossed and turned for a whole, tortured hour, before Monica was confident he was asleep. She crept into the bedroom and stood over him.
His sandy brown hair was tousseled, no doubt from his restless attempts to get some sleep. His face was flushed with sleep, but it hurt Monica to see the look of pain it wore, even though Chandler was asleep. She knelt next to him on the floor, and reached a hand up to stroke his cheek. She ran her fingers through his hair, as if she wanted to remember the feeling forever.
"Oh God Chandler, if only you knew," she whispered. "I love you." Monica kissed his cheek softly, then she got ready for bed and slipped under the covers beside him. She desperately wanted to put her arms around him, press her body against his and hold him tight, but she knew it was all impossible.
The next morning when Monica woke up, Chandler was gone. She touched his pillow, which was still warm, and, feeling ridiculous as she did so, leaned down and breathed in the calming smell of him. When she did get up and go out into the living room, Chandler was sitting in the kitchen drinking a cup of coffee.
"Morning," he said cheerfully. During his wakefull hours the previous night, Chandler had decided not to press Monica to tell him whatever it was that was bothering her, to act as though nothing was wrong, and hope that she would tell him in her own time.
"Morning, honey," she said. If he could make the effort, so could she, although it pained her more than she could say to call him'honey'.
"You want some coffee?" Chandler offered.
"No thanks, I have to get to work," Monica lied.
"Okay, do you know what time you'll be home tonight?" he asked, accepting the lie with the innocence of a child.
"Hopefully I'll get away at nine, so I should be home by half past. But if we have a busy night, it could be as late as eleven," she said.
"Well Joey and I have a guy's night out planned, so you might actually beat me home," Chandler told her. Monica smiled weakly.
"'Kay, i really have to go now," Monica said. She started to walk about, but felt Chandler's hand on her arm, pulling her back. She turned, afraid of what he would say. Her fear must have shown in her eyes, because he suddenly looked very sad.
"Bye," he said, pulling her closer for a kiss. She kissed him back, relieved that things seemed to be back to normal.
Chandler watched as Monica left, not realising until she had gone that it was supposed to be her day off. He narrowed his eyes at the closed door, wondering if she knew. She had been pretty tired all week, so it wouldn't have surprised him if she had forgotten. But she had been looking forward to today for several days. Surely she would have remembered.
Monica had remembered. She knew perfectly well that she had the day off. And she planned on going home at lunchtime. She would tell Chandler she stayed for a few hours because they were short staffed, but then someone else came in, so she was free to come home. But for the moment, she had somewhere else that she had to be.
The door swung open just as she stepped up to it, making her jump a little in surprise. A tired looking woman walked out and pushed past her, as if she didn't notice Monica standing there. A little shaken, Monica took a deep breath and walked into the plain white building. She went to the recpetion, and gave her name to a bored looking blonde woman with fingernails that were at least an inch long.
"Take a seat over there," the woman said, gesturing vaguely in the direction of a group of plastic blue chairs. Monica forced her mouth into something resembling a smile, and sat down. There were only three other people waiting; a brunette with a toddler on her knee; a girl who couldn't have been more than sixteen, she even had a schoolbag with a maths textbook poking out of it sitting at her feet; and a worried looking man with glasses that he kept taking off and putting on again.
She waited twelve minutes, during which a harrassed looking couple came in and the teenager was called in. A woman came out and greeted the worried man with a hug. They had barely walked out of the door, when a voice called: "Monica Geller?" She jumped to her feet. This was it. Finally. She went into the smaller room.
"Ms Geller?" the doctor asked.
"Yes," she said, standing nervously in the doorway. the doctor, a tall man with dark hair that was greying at the temples walked behind her and shut the door. He sat down and gestured for her to do the same.
"So, you think you're pregnant?" he asked conversationally. Monica bit her lip and nodded. She hated the way he put it so bluntly. "Have you taken a home pregnancy test?" he asked. She hesitated for a second, then shook her head. Her hands fidgeted in her lap. "Why not?"
"My apartment is like Picadily Circus, i never have a moments privacy. Someone woudl be sure to find out," she said. By someone she really meant Chandler, but she hoped he wouldn't jump to that conclusion.
"Your friends? Family? Husband? Boyfriend?" he asked, looking at her closely.
"I'm not married," Monica said, chosing to focus on that, rather than admit that she didn't want anyone to find out she might be pregnant.
"But you have a boyfriend?" he asked, carefully neutral. monica nodded. "But you don't want him to find out? Why not?"
"I just don't want to get his hopes up until I know for sure," Monica lied quickly. She wasn't sure if the doctor believed her, but if he didn't, he decided to keep quiet about it, at least for the moment.
"Okay, well I'll check you over and do a blood test. I'll call you in a couple of days with the results," the doctor promised. Monica bit her lip in disappointment; she had hoped to find out for sure today. The stress of hiding it from Chandler was tearing her apart.
By the time Monica got home, it was almost eleven o'clock. Chandler was supposed to be at work, but had taken the day off 'sick'. He was sitting on the couch watching TV, and turned to grin at Monica when she entered the apartment. He had decided not to ask about why she had gone into work on her day off, unless she brought the subject up.
"Hey honey," he greeted her, smiling sunnily at her. She forced herself to smile back at him.
"Hi," she said. She took a soda out of the fridge. "You want one?" she offered. Chandler looked to see what she was getting, then shook his head.
"No thanks, hey, have a seat," she invited, patting the couch next to him. Monica obligingly sat down next to him. As he slid his arm around her and pulled her closer, she could almost forget the secret that could rip them apart, and she rested her head on his shoulder. He kissed her hair lightly, enjoying the quiet shared moment. They sat silently for a little while longer, until Monica remember the reason she had gone out that morning and pulled away. Chandler sighed, reluctant to let her go.
"What's the matter Mon?" he asked her softly. She shook her head. She didn't want to get into another thing like last night. Chandler got up and angrily pushed her away from him. "Fine. I'm going for a walk," he said and stormed towards the door.
"Chandler, please..." Monica called after him. He stopped briefly and looked at her, hoping she would explain everything, but she didn't speak another word, so he just turned sadly away and walked out. He wanted so badly to slam the door when he first stood up. But the look on Monica's face when she called out to him had destroyed all his anger, leaving only hurt and frustration that she didn't trust him enough to tell him.
Chandler left the building and walked briskly down the street. He had no idea where he was going, and he didn't really care either. It was raining slightly, and his glasses were spotted with raindrops, but he didn't even notice.
At about three o'clock, Chandler realised he was hungry. He stopped at the nearest coffee house and bought a BLT sandwhich and a coffee to go. He went to Central Park and sat down on a bench to eat his meagre lunch. He didn't move to get up, even after he finished eating, he just didn't feel in the mood to do anything anymore, not even wander around New York City.
"Hi," said a voice. A woman had sat down on the bench next to him. Chandler grunted in reply. He just wanted to be alone right now. And if any woman was sat next to him, he wanted it to be Monica. "Wow, aren't you a little ray of sunshine today?" she asked. Chandler didn't reply. he didn't want to be rude by asking her to leave, although he didn't want to encourage her to stay by talking to her. "Whats the matter?" the woman asked. Without waiting for an answer, she went on. "I bet I could make you feel better."
Chandler turned to her, shocked. She was leaning slightly forward, expecting his response. Chandler stood up and backed away. He wondered what the hell he was doing here. "Leave me alone," he said, surprising himself with how weak his voice sounded. He walked quickly away, hearing the womans laughter following him.
Monica was sitting on the couch when Chandler returned. She looked like she had been crying. Chandler stopped in the doorway and watched her for a few seconds, before he walked over to her. Silently, he hugged her tightly. Monica let him hold her for a little while, but it was her who pulled away first. When she did, Chandler looked at her for a moment, then leaned in and kissed her. Monica didn't pull away, so he deepened the kiss. Before long, they were in their bedroom making love.
Afterwards, with Chandler lying next to her, his fingers playing with her long dark hair, Monica felt increadibly guilty. Chandler was so obviously in love with her, she hated herself for hurting him. Tears filled her eyes for no real reason, and she blinked to hold them back. She also tensed slightly, which Chandler noticed. He sat up and studied her face intently.
"Mon?" he asked softly, hoping now would be the last time he had to see her cry and not know why and not be able to comfort her. Hoping that now she was ready to tell him what was on her mind. He reached a hand to her cheek, but Monica harshly pushed him away. She rolled over so she had her back to him and covered her mouth with her hand so he wouldn't hear her cry.
Chandler decided to leave her alone for a while. Not so much for her sake, but because he was so angry with her for not trusting him that he was afraid he might snap at her, or do something he'd regret. Over the last couple of days, there had been many times when he wanted to grab her and shake her, as if to shake the common sense to the front of her brain, that would tell her she could trust him.
Half an hour later, Monica emerged from the bedroom, dressed in clean clothes, with a small bag slung over her shoulder. Chandler lept up. He only saw the bag, and was terrified she was walking out on him. He rushed over and grabbed her, trying to stop her leaving. She stopped willingly enough and just looked at him strangely.
"Please don't go," he begged in a hoarse voice.
"Go where?" she asked, confused.
"You, you aren't leaving me?" he asked, childlike in his need for reassurance.
"No, of course not," Monica said with a smile. Although she couldn't stop the thought that pretty soon she might be the one begging Chandler not to go, springing to mind. Chandler hugged her tightly, as if he never wanted to let her out of his arms again.
"Whats the bag for then?" he asked.
"You really think I'd take this if I was leaving you? Because its so big and fits so much in it?" she said sarcastically, then stopped suddenly. Chandler had been really scared, it wasn't fair to make fun of him. "Sorry. No, I'm just going shopping with Rachel."
"Oh, okay," Chandler said, breathing a huge sigh of relief. He hugged her again and kissed the top of her head. Monica tilted her head upwards, so he could kiss her on the mouth.
Not until he had hugged her and kissed her a few more times would Chandler let go of her. When he did, Monica was careful to measure the speed of her retreat. Not too fast, or else he would think his panic had made her think he was over reacting. Not too slow, or he would pull her back for more assurances that she would come home.
She hated having to lie to him. There was nothing harder than lying to those puppy dog eyes that could turn blue, green or grey, seemingly at will, although she knew it was really just because of the way the light was shining on them. It had been almost more than she was capable of to reassure him, and let him hold her and kiss her because he was afraid she would leave him forever. And the single worst thing was that she was going straight from his soft, loving kisses into the arms of another man for intense, passionate kisses. That after promising Chandler she would never let him down, she was betraying him every minute she was with this other man.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Who is the other man? Keep guessing until part 2. Well, except for Anna, because it was her idea. Please review. Pretty please..?