(Please Come Home For Christmas, Chapter Two)
Christmas Eve
It had been…brewing, for lack of a better word, ever since the engagement. This gnawing, dark, unsure feeling that sat in the pit of his stomach. He loved her, he knew that he loved her, and he knew that he wanted to marry her, to spend his life with her. His growing frustration with her was more related to the wedding, than to the marriage.
She couldn't look past the moment—she was consumed by the wedding, and it was driving him mad.
But he was willing to let all of that go; after all, the wedding would be over in a little over four months, and then all would be well again.
But then there was the baby conversation. She started talking about how they should start trying during the Honeymoon, so that they could get pregnant in the first year. He expressed doubts, saying that they should get used to each other, as a married couple, before they started reproducing.
She took it badly, and everything spiraled from there, and suddenly, they were saying the wedding was off.
And now here he was, wandering the streets of New York, freezing his ass off, with nowhere to go. Sighing heavily, he wandered up to a roasted nut vendor.
"Hey," a warm, jovial voice came from his left.
Chandler smiled, though he had no desire to start an uncomfortable conversation with a total stranger.
"Happy Holidays," the old man said.
Chandler felt his anger rise; stupid holidays! He hated the holidays, nothing good ever happened to him during the holidays—tonight being a prime example.
"Yeah, whatever," he sighed, and walked away.
He walked down the street, and paused, as he came upon a large Catholic church. It had been years since he'd been inside a church…but he needed to get out of the cold, and he longed to be somewhere beautiful. Sighing heavily, he shuffled up the concrete steps and walked into the church.
The church was warm and inviting, and the choir up front was rehearsing "Silent Night." Chandler took a seat on a pew near the back of the church, and as his feet thawed, his mind wandered.
He thought about what Monica had said. How she thought that there was nothing more important than her wedding. Her wedding. He'd suddenly felt all of his insecurities re-surface; what if he was just the guy who happened to be there when she wanted to do this? She had after all, considered Richard's hasty proposal the very same night they'd gotten engaged. But, Chandler reminded himself; she had chosen him over Richard…
And yet the insecurity lingered. He could not believe he was questioning this, but…was it possible that Monica didn't love him the way that he loved her? A few months ago, he would never have even asked the question, but now…now everything had changed.
"There's nothing like beautiful music, to put you into the holiday spirit."
Chandler was suddenly pulled from his thoughts, as the choir continued to practice.
Through the years we all will be together, if the fates allow,
Hang a shining star upon the highest bow
And have yourself a merry little Christmas now…Chandler felt himself shudder slightly, as he realized that he had no spirit in him this night.
"The time of year to be with the one's you love."
The statement stung Chandler, and he turned and glared at the man sitting behind him. He was slightly startled to note that it was the kindly old man that had been at the vendor cart. There was something…familiar about this man, and something that made him very sad. He suddenly felt hopelessness course through him, and felt the urge to get out of there.
"Only if someone loves you," he said sadly, and dashed out of the church.
~*~
Monica was trembling, when Rachel and Ross walked into the apartment.
"Mon, what's wrong?" Rachel asked, concern lining her voice.
"Chandler-er…he…he left," Monica stuttered.
"What? Where?" Rachel asked, shocked.
"We fought, and we…I don't think we're engaged anymore," Monica sobbed.
"What happened?" Ross asked.
"We…he said that he didn't want kids…and that he…he thought I was too consumed with the wedding, and I…I don't know, I just got so mad! Everything had been going wrong with the caterer, and then the stress of the holiday…this…this was the last thing I needed," Monica sighed, and wandered toward the towering Christmas tree that stood shimmering in front of the window.
"I'm gonna hunt him down, and kick his—"
"Ross, not now," Rachel growled, then approached Monica, honey, I'm sure he'll be back tonight, and you guys can work things out…it's all a big misunderstanding, I'm sure. Plus, it's Christmas!"
"I don't…I don't want to celebrate Christmas this year," Monica said sadly, "I just…can't," Monica pulled a small gold ornament from the tree, and looked at it sadly. It slipped from her hands, and shattered into a million tiny shards onto the floor in front of her.
She looked down at the starburst of glass at her feet, and sighed, before retreating to her bedroom, fully intent on staying there until the holidays were over and gone.