Hey again! Thank you soooo much for all the reviews!!! They make me so happy and definitely make me go faster, haha. I think there will be a few more parts left to this, so let me know how I'm doing again, seriously any comments you have will help me a lot. Thanks for reading! Love you guys!
*Maddy*
Having to watch her leave the party with him was painful. Their marriage was such a joke, such a complete failure, and anyone who knew them before would see it. Seeing them together had always been difficult, yes, even hurtful at times, but now… now it was like it took all the restraint that Chandler had not to beg her to leave him (on a good day) or to kick him in the kneecap (on a bad day).
He continually replayed the night in his mind; Richard making annoying (how long ago was it that they all thought he was charming?) jokes, Monica smiling when necessary, Richard touching her shoulder, her knee, her lower back as he led her away… to the untrained eye, they were a normal couple.
The untrained eye hadn't spent the last three years seeing the other side, the side that stayed hidden in the sophisticatedly decorated, two-bedroom brownstone they shared, as far across town as Richard could get her to agree to. The untrained eye hadn't been the shoulder she cried on every time Richard was unfaithful (at his last count, four times she could prove, two strong suspicions). The untrained eye didn't know how it tore her up inside, the decision to marry Richard even though she knew they would never have a child, the one thing she had always wanted. The untrained eye didn't know the half of it.
"They seem to be getting along better," Ross had commented after the Burkes had left the apartment. Phoebe and Joey voiced their agreement, while Rachel and Chandler stayed silent.
"But she seemed a little distant, didn't you think?" Phoebe asked.
"I don't know. I think she's been really busy," Chandler said, always quick to defend.
Ross rolled his eyes. "Sorry, we forgot, nothing at all negative about Monica in front of her great protector."
If only he could be, Chandler thought but didn't say.
"Did you have a good time?" Richard asked as they unlocked the front door.
"Yes, did you?" she answered. 'Good time' might be stretching it, if she were to tell the truth. It had been wonderful to be with her friends for the night, and to see Chandler, and to realize that no matter what, he would always be there for her. But the constant pretending that she was in a happy marriage, Richard's unrelenting attempts to fit in, and her paranoia about the two men in her life sharing the same sofa had given her a splitting headache, and all she wanted to do was lie down and sleep it off.
"Sure. It was good to see Ross again… he's doing well, isn't he?"
"Yup," Monica said. She tossed her keys on the hall table and began leafing through the mail. He took off his jacket, and loosened that ridiculous tie.
"So," he began casually, "what was that thing with you and Chandler?"
She literally felt like her heart actually stopped.
"What thing?" she asked calmly. This was it. He knew, and it was over, and they'd get a divorce and live unhappily ever after.
"In the kitchen, tonight. Joey said he thought you'd had a fight, and then you looked pretty upset. And the hug…" Richard reminded her.
"Oh that. It was nothing."
"Monica I saw it, it was something. Something's been bothering you. Why won't you tell me?"
She put the mail down on the table a little harder than was necessary. "Why can't you just let it go? I don't want to talk about it, okay?"
His face clouded over and his eyes grew darker, and she knew then that they weren't going to be going to bed for a while. It was argument time.
"You don't want to talk about it, but you can talk to him about it." Richard said 'him' like the word was poisonous.
She closed her eyes briefly. "Are we really doing this right now?"
"Yes, we're really doing this right now, because I want to do it now," he said stubbornly. "Do you think I really wanted to spend my night off at Rachel and Phoebe's, playing 'who's-got-the-funnier-anecdote'? I did it because I knew it was something you wanted, Monica. I thought maybe it would make you happy, and maybe the iciness you have around me would go away for a second, even if it was only while we were there."
"And did it?" she asked. It wasn't sarcastic or mocking; she really was curious to see if he bought her act along with the rest of her friends.
"No. No, instead, I watch you confide in him, and I watch him look at you all night and stare daggers at me, which is actually a pleasant change from the indifferent disgust he usually looks at me with-"
"Richard, that's not fair," she tried to interrupt. God, her head was pounding.
"You're right, it's not fair. It's not fair that he hates me so much it's uncomfortable to be in the same room, just because he's gotten a one-sided story of the past three years, and because you run over there every time things get hard," he said, raising his voice.
"Is 'every time things get hard' a new euphemism for 'every time I sleep with another woman'?" Monica asked, her own voice raising to meet his.
"Why do you think I did that, Monica? Because I don't love you? You know that's not true," he said, gaining momentum.
"Do I? Then please, enlighten me," she said sarcastically.
"Do you have any idea, any idea, what it feels like to marry someone you love so completely, and know that she wishes you were someone else?"
"Don't do that, Richard, do not turn this around and make it my fault," she said. She was feeling guilty enough for her own adultery; she didn't need Richard pinning his on her, too.
"The day of our wedding, I stood there and I watched you walk down the aisle, and you were so beautiful. And then you stood there next to me, and all I could think about was our life together, and how happy you would make me. And just before you said I do… do you remember what you did?" he asked. His voice was less confrontational now, tinged with a hint of sadness. She shook her head silently.
"You looked at him. You hesitated for a split second and looked past me… and I knew you were looking for him."
It had been kind of a whirl wind romance, in the words of her mother. Six months of dating, and he had proposed; a three month engagement, and they were getting married. And now, it was the morning of her wedding, and she was putting on her make-up, on the happiest day of her life. She kept repeating that to herself, for some reason, like a mantra: 'The happiest day of my life, the happiest day of my life.'
Chandler had knocked on her bedroom door, and she had assumed he was there to give her his best wishes, assure her that she was doing the right thing, and that he'd always be her best friend, and that he loved her. That was what he was supposed to say.
Instead, he sat on the corner of her bed, watched her apply her mascara, in silence. And when he finally opened his mouth, streams of words she didn't want to hear fell out like he had been trapping them there forever.
He had finished with, "Please, just reconsider, Monica. I promise you, this is going to be the biggest mistake of your life." The mascara discarded, and her mouth gaping, she had stared at him in disbelief.
"You're supposed to be my best friend," she said shakily, trying to keep the tears from falling.
"I am," he said quietly.
"You aren't. You're just jealous, and you're trying to make me doubt this, so that I won't get married, and nothing will change, but that's selfish, Chandler," she cried. "You didn't want me, and now you don't get to decide what happens when someone does."
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything," he mumbled. He kissed her lightly on the forehead. "Forget I was here, okay?"
She had turned her back to him, in anger and sadness. As he reached the doorway, she spoke without turning.
"You're still going, right?"
He hesitated. "Of course. I'll be there," he said. "With bells on," he added as a joke. When she still refused to turn to face him, he left without another word.
"Are you going to tell me I imagined it?" Richard challenged.
She shook her head slightly. "No. I did look towards Chandler. But… it wasn't because I didn't love you," she said. His face softened a little, right before she added, "You took care of that all on your own."
He threw up his hands in defeat. "So what are you doing here, then? If you're never going to forgive me for… indiscretions committed in the past, what are you doing with me?"
She stared at him for what seemed like forever. "I don't know," she admitted finally.
Rachel woke to someone knocking on the front door at two thirty in the morning. She rolled over and tried to tune it out; maybe Phoebe would get it. After a few more moments, she groaned and pulled herself up, wondering who the hell would be knocking right now.
"Sorry. I forgot my key," Monica whispered. Rachel blinked tiredly, not registering what was going on, until she noticed the bag in her best friend's hand, and the puffy red eyes of someone who'd been crying. She ushered her in wordlessly, sat down on the couch and pulled her into her arms, and let her cry.
And where do you think you're going? Review first! Haha. No. You don't have to. I'd like it if you did, though. ;)
