The One Where We Got Soaking Wet
Chapter five
Continued from: 'TOW I Spill My Guts'
By: Jana~
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--"You wanted to talk to me?" I asked softly, unsure of my own voice, unsure if I really wanted to have the conversation that was about to take place.
He nodded, flicking at the water briefly before wiping his hand on his pants and facing me.
"Yeah, I wanted to talk to you," he said, but then he just sat there. Silent.
I watched him carefully, trying to get some idea of what was about to be said, but I couldn't read him. To me, it seemed like something was wrong, and ever so briefly, my mind questioned his health.
Maybe he's sick. Or dying. I inwardly shook that thought from my brain. No. He's fine… right?
"Chandler? Are you ok?" I asked, nervously awaiting his reply.
He smiled. Why is he smiling?
"I'm not sure yet," he replied. "The answer to that question kind of depends on you."
Me?
"Me?" What is that supposed to mean?
He nodded, then took a deep breath, and unwittingly, I did too.
"Monica, I'm still in love with you."
I couldn't stop myself from gasping.
"I've never stopped loving you, and I was-- I was stupid to leave. I think I was afraid of losing you, so it was like, beat you to the punch, ya'know?"
He didn't really just say that, did he? It was a dream, right? For six months I've waited-- Oh, great. Here comes the water works. I'm really, honestly surprised I haven't become seriously dehydrated these past six months.
"I know- I know, that's beyond stupid, but, I got scared. I think I was scared of losing you."
Is it just me, or did that make no sense?
"You were scared of losing me, so, you left me?" I asked.
"Look, I know you're probably really upset with me, and I don't blame you. I'm really upset with me, too. But, these last six months, I've been miserable without you."
I've been miserable without you, too. The words rattled around in my head, but never came out of my mouth. When the tears rolled down his cheeks, it was like someone took my heart and squeezed it. After all these months of being desperate for his comfort, and now I find myself wanting to comfort him. How's that for irony?
"I don't think I can live without you, Mon. And if you can forgive me, and if you can find it in your heart to take me back, it would make me the happiest man in all of New York. Hell, the world!"
I was rendered speechless, and my eyes darted about our surroundings as his words sank in. He wanted to try again. When he placed his hand over mine, it felt like my heart was going to burst through my chest, it was racing so fast.
"And if you take me back," he continued, "I will try my hardest each and every day to make you the happiest woman in all the world."
He was awaiting my answer. I could tell he was, but I didn't know exactly what to say. I wanted to say 'yes'. Oh, God, how I wanted to say 'yes', but, what if in another six months he decided he couldn't 'move forward' again? If he broke up with me again, I know I wouldn't survive it, emotionally.
But, then again, this is what I have been praying for. Wishing for. Everyday. For the past six months.
"Monica, please, say something."
His request brought me out of my reverie.
"I have been wishing and praying," I told him, "Each and every day, since the day you left, for you to say those words to me. I would sit on this very spot, and wish upon coin after coin, then toss them in, hoping that in doing so, you would come back to me."
The tears came faster, and I pulled my hand away from his in an attempt to wipe them from my face.
God, I must look a mess.
"And now you're here, saying these words," I continued, "And, well, I just have one thing to say."
I looked into his eyes, his brows furrowed as he waited for me to finish, and I lost it. Too many emotions hit me all at once, and I just couldn't hold on any longer.
My tears started to flow like a river, and I tried to breathe to control the sobs, but that just caused me to whimper.
I looked and sounded ridiculous, and I fought to gain some composure so I could at least find my voice. That's when he held his arms out to me.
I fell into his embrace, burying my face in his chest as he stroked my hair. He started to rock me back and forth, like how one might when comforting a small child, and neither of us realized until it was too late…
He lost his balance on the ledge, and he struggled to regain it, but his efforts failed. We hit the shallow water with a splash, and I yelped in surprise.
Chandler laughed as he stood, helping me to stand, and I smiled as we hopped out of the fountain.
"Sorry," he apologized, for the falling in or the laughing, I wasn't sure. "Are you ok?"
I nodded as I flung my wet hair out of my face, looking down at my drenched clothes.
"We need to get out of these wet clothes," I told him, swiping downward at his suit jacket in an attempt to brush away some of the water.
He took my hand and stopped me, a smile on his face. "I'm an hour away by train…"
"Come to my place, then. I'm sure Joey will let you borrow some sweats or something."
"Are you sure?" he asked, still holding my hand, and I knew he wasn't asking in reference to Joey and the sweats.
I nodded, and I felt him tighten his grip as he nodded in response.
My hand in his, we headed for the exit of the park closest to my apartment. It wasn't exactly a cold evening, but with me being so completely soaked, the cool breeze that swished through made me shiver.
"My jacket is wet, but you can wear it," he offered, "If you want."
I didn't answer, but he didn't really give me time to, either. He pulled his hand from mine and shrugged out of his suit jacket, then draped it across my shoulders.
I smiled as a thank you, and he reached for my hand again as we started walking. The wet jacket didn't really stop the cold breeze from chilling me, but I wasn't about to tell him that.
I liked wearing his jacket. Even with the dip in the fountain, it still smelled like him. Like a combination of his soap and after-shave. I love the way he smells, and how chivalrous he can be. He used to do that all the time, drape his jacket over my shoulders as we'd walk to and from the Bethesda Fountain. My comfort was always important to him.
--We arrived at my apartment, not having said more than a few casual sentences as we walked hand in hand.
I handed him his jacket, then knocked on Joey's door. No answer.
"So much for that," Chandler chuckled, gesturing to his wet clothes.
"How quickly we forget," I said as I entered my apartment, returning a second later with Joey and Rachel's key. I held up the key before unlocking their door.
I stepped in, Chandler right behind me, then headed for Joey's room. I knocked first, just in case, then let myself into his room in search of something suitable for Chandler to wear.
"It sure hasn't changed much," he called out to me from the livingroom.
"Yeah," I agreed, finding a pair of sweat pants and a Knicks shirt that, even though on the floor, seemed and smelled clean.
We walked across the hall to my apartment, then I excused myself as I went into my room to change. I whipped off my wet clothes, quickly finding something to wear that I knew looked good on me… for Chandler's sake.
I left my room, quickly looking around for Chandler. My heart sank when I saw that he wasn't there.
Did he leave? I tried not to think the worst, but it was hard not to.
After several moments of panic, I called out to him…
TO BE CONTINUED…
