Monica shivered slightly, and Chandler immediately pulled the covers
over her shoulders, rubbing her arms comfortingly, at a loss for words.
Silent tears rolled down her cheeks, and anger grew in the pit of Chandler's stomach. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. Why Monica? Why did she have to be with someone like Paul, who only degraded her? Why a miscarriage? If it were his, and she were his-
The door opened, and Chandler saw the last person he would ever have expected stride in. Paul.
"What are you doing here?" Chandler growled, waking Monica, who stared at her husband silently.
Paul looked startled, then scared. "What happened to her?" he demanded weakly as Monica simply looked at him.
"What happened to her?" Chandler repeated, rising from his chair and balling his fists at his side. "You have got one hell of a nerve, Paul."
"Now listen for just a-"
"No, you listen, you worthless bastard!" Chandler spat, losing control. "She is my best friend, and I'll be damned if you ever come near her again. If I ever see you again, and I mean ever, I will personally see to it that you suffer as she has suffered, bruise for bruise, scar for scar, blood for blood."
Paul hesitated a second too long, and Chandler felt his blood boil as his fist launched out and connected squarely with his opponent's jaw.
Blood streaming from his lip, Paul looked to Monica, who simply said, "I want a divorce, Paul."
Monica was discharged from the hospital three days later, with news from Dr. Roberts that her fertility was intact. The news meant absolutely nothing to her.
Chandler helped her settle into the apartment, and Emily was staying with Ross. Both noticed that Paul had indeed moved out.
An empty beer bottle sat on the counter by the sink, the only reminder that was left of her husband. Monica picked it up, rolling in her palms.
Suddenly she exploded in a warlike scream, throwing the bottle with all her might, sending it crashing to the floor.
"I hate you!" she yelled in pain. "I hate you for what you did to me!" She swept her hands quickly over the table, where dishes were set, sending them to their demise. "I hate you for ruining my life!"
Chandler pulled her into him, holding her in an almost vice-like grip.
"I hate you!" she screamed again, and then lost it, collapsing into Chandler's arms and sobbing hysterically.
Chandler guided her to the couch and sat her down, her high-pitched sobs muffled by her head pressed into his shoulder and neck.
"I'm here, Monica," was all he whispered as he rubbed her back soothingly.
Her sobs were the only sound, filling the apartment with the last remnants of her pain.
Two hours later, Monica dozed off on the couch, and Chandler covered her with a blanket from the bedroom. He stayed next to her through the night, sleeping every few minutes, but always alert to her movements, in case she awakened.
A few times, she stirred and mumbled incoherent phrases. A single tear gathered on her eyelashes, and trailed slowly down her cheek.
Rachel opened the apartment door, and stopped at the sight of Monica on the couch, and Chandler sleeping on the chair next to her. Walking quietly into the kitchen, she opened the refrigerator for a soda.
Chandler's eyes opened at the sound. Rachel waved, and he smiled tiredly in greeting as he rose and walked to the table. Rachel poured the drink in two glasses and slid one over to him as she sat.
"How is she?" she asked in a low voice as she sipped.
He shook his head as he answered, "She's fine, physically. Her pain is gone, but she's still pregnant, as far as her body knows. It's killing me to see her like this." His eyes darkened, and Rachel noticed.
"You know what, Chandler," Rachel mused, her chin in her hand, "She deserves you."
"What makes you say that?" he asked, taken aback.
Rachel only smiled as she finished her drink. Standing, she kissed him quickly on the cheek as she left.
She stopped at the door. "She deserves you, Chandler," she repeated. "She just needs to realize that." Waving again, she left.
A week later.
"Hello, Monica," Dr. Roberts smiled as she entered the small exam room. Monica only nodded in acknowledgement, pulling the paper gown around her tightly.
"What I'm going to do is feel your abdomen for any abnormalities, check the vaginal canal for discharge and/or bleeding, and then we'll talk for a bit."
Monica nodded. "Will it hurt?" she asked quietly.
The doctor shook her head. "It shouldn't," she assured her patient as she stood and approached the table. Monica lay back, and the obstetrician drew the paper gown up to the chest. Pressing down on her abdomen, Dr. Roberts informed her to say if she felt pain.
Monica scrunched her face slightly when the doctor's hands pressed above her pelvis.
"A little sore there?" Dr. Roberts asked off her reaction.
"Yes."
"That should disappear in a couple of weeks," Dr. Roberts said as she donned a pair of exam gloves. "Have you noticed any vaginal bleeding since you came home from the hospital?"
Monica shook her head. The doctor did a quick check of the vaginal canal, then threw the gloves away and washed her hands.
"Well, Monica, you seem to be fine," she smiled reassuringly as she sat down. "I just need to ask you a few questions. Can you think of any activities or occurrences that may have triggered this?"
Monica was silent, but her eyes were pained. Dr. Roberts noticed.
"Monica," she said in a motherly tone, "whatever you tell me will not be divulged to anyone who does not have clearance, but I need to know, so I can effectively treat you, okay?"
One tear escaped from her eye, and she dropped her head. Looking down at her lap, she told the doctor everything she remembered about that night.
When she finished, there was a silence in the room. Monica kept her head down, and the tears dropped on the white paper.
The hand on her knee caused her to look up.
"I'm proud of you," the older woman whispered. "What you told me took a lot of courage."
Monica's eyes met the silvery-blues of her doctor.
"This has been ongoing, I assume?"
Monica nodded.
"Are you planning to report him?"
"No," Monica shook her head. "Chandler, my friend, threatened him and he left, for good."
"Are you sure?" the doctor replied. "If he ever comes in contact with you, and does lay a hand on you, then what?" she asked with concern.
"Then I go to a lawyer," Monica replied with certainty. "Listen, Dr. Roberts, what happened to me hurt. But I have friends, and I'll be okay, eventually."
"All right, Monica," she responded after a short silence, "you're recovering nicely. Stay at home for a week longer, and then take it easy with physical activity of any kind. Your body is slowly shifting to the recognition that you are no longer pregnant. Sometimes it takes a while. If you have any questions, or if you notice any excessive bleeding, call the hospital, okay? They can page me, or tell you to come in."
The two women stood, and Monica shook her doctor's hand. "Thank you for being so supportive," she whispered.
"You're very welcome," Dr. Roberts smiled. "Keep me posted on how you're doing."
"I will," Monica promised as she retrieved her purse. "Thanks again," she said as she left.
"Hey," Chandler greeted as he walked through the door with Emily, who immediately ran to her mother and hugged her.
"Mom, guess what me and Chandler did today?"
"Chandler and I," Monica corrected.
"Chandler and I," Emily repeated in a monotonous tone, rolling her eyes.
"What did you do?" her mother asked, her eyes shining.
"We made scary faces out of cardboard and scared Uncle Joey."
Just then, Joey walked in. "Hey, there you are!" he said as he saw Emily. "C'mon, we're gonna scare the chick and the duck."
Emily jumped up and ran with Joey to the apartment across the hall.
"So how'd the appointment go?" Chandler asked, sinking onto the couch beside her.
"Fine. She says everything is normal."
"I'm glad to hear that," he replied softly.
"I need a favor," she said just as quietly.
"Anything."
"I've made an appointment with my lawyer tomorrow to sign the divorce papers. Will you come with me, you know, for moral support?"
"Of course."
"Thanks," Monica smiled wearily. He opened his arms and she accepted him, laying her head on his shoulder.
He sat quietly, content with the silence that enveloped them both, until she spoke.
"Why are you doing this?" Monica whispered timidly.
"Doing what?"
"This," she repeated, straightening and motioning between them. "You're always the first one there. You found me when I had the." she hesitated for a second. "The miscarriage," she forced out. "You were the first one to see me in the hospital. You were the one who brought me home. Why have you done all this?"
He swallowed hard as his mind struggled to form an answer.
"B.because.God, Mon, because I hate to see this happen to you. You should be the happiest woman in the world."
"Well, I would love that," Monica replied sarcastically. "But the experiences in my life have done precious little for my happiness, Chandler. Life isn't happy, okay?"
"Mon-"
"No, don't you 'Mon' me!" she interrupted, reading his look and losing control. "Where the hell do you get off telling me that I could be happy? You're the one who will never admit to being happy or fortunate. You don't have a husband who will beat the living shit out of you, given the chance, and the right amount of alcohol. You're not the one who will have to deal with the questions that your six-year-old daughter is sure to start asking once she realizes her father's never coming home again. You're the one who will never end up alone, worrying that the only chance you had at happiness only hurt you and left you broken. Don't you talk to me about happy!" she nearly screamed, her eyes red-hot, as angry tears spilled over.
He stared at her in shock as she stood in front of him, crying silently.
The silence was agony. Monica, full of nervous energy from her outburst, clenched her teeth behind closed lips to check her composure.
Chandler opened his mouth to speak, and then shut it as his eyes lost hers. Without another attempt for words, he walked out the door, closing it quietly behind him.
She had done it. She had taken it out on him, her best friend, her strongest supporter, and the one who would never hurt her.
The tears quickly dried as she wiped at them with her shirtsleeve. Resting her head on her pillow, her mind could only focus on her mistakes. Marrying the wrong man.having a child with him.
The door flew open violently, hitting the counter with a frightening crack, then slammed shut from its own momentum as Chandler stormed through it.
Monica jumped to her feet at his entrance. "Chandler, what-?"
"Listen, okay?" he interrupted her, his eyes flashing with fire. "I know all about being unhappy. I know exactly how it feels to look to my future and be scared to death. I know what it's like to want something so bad; it tears me up inside every time I see it. But I also know that." he stopped, running his hands through his hair nervously. "I know that I want it," he said, losing steam and volume. "I want to make you happy."
This silence was more unbearable than the last, as his eyes searched hers for a reaction.
I know, I know, I haven't updated in forever, but I've been so busy! Please leave reviews.tell me what you think, okay? (
Silent tears rolled down her cheeks, and anger grew in the pit of Chandler's stomach. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. Why Monica? Why did she have to be with someone like Paul, who only degraded her? Why a miscarriage? If it were his, and she were his-
The door opened, and Chandler saw the last person he would ever have expected stride in. Paul.
"What are you doing here?" Chandler growled, waking Monica, who stared at her husband silently.
Paul looked startled, then scared. "What happened to her?" he demanded weakly as Monica simply looked at him.
"What happened to her?" Chandler repeated, rising from his chair and balling his fists at his side. "You have got one hell of a nerve, Paul."
"Now listen for just a-"
"No, you listen, you worthless bastard!" Chandler spat, losing control. "She is my best friend, and I'll be damned if you ever come near her again. If I ever see you again, and I mean ever, I will personally see to it that you suffer as she has suffered, bruise for bruise, scar for scar, blood for blood."
Paul hesitated a second too long, and Chandler felt his blood boil as his fist launched out and connected squarely with his opponent's jaw.
Blood streaming from his lip, Paul looked to Monica, who simply said, "I want a divorce, Paul."
Monica was discharged from the hospital three days later, with news from Dr. Roberts that her fertility was intact. The news meant absolutely nothing to her.
Chandler helped her settle into the apartment, and Emily was staying with Ross. Both noticed that Paul had indeed moved out.
An empty beer bottle sat on the counter by the sink, the only reminder that was left of her husband. Monica picked it up, rolling in her palms.
Suddenly she exploded in a warlike scream, throwing the bottle with all her might, sending it crashing to the floor.
"I hate you!" she yelled in pain. "I hate you for what you did to me!" She swept her hands quickly over the table, where dishes were set, sending them to their demise. "I hate you for ruining my life!"
Chandler pulled her into him, holding her in an almost vice-like grip.
"I hate you!" she screamed again, and then lost it, collapsing into Chandler's arms and sobbing hysterically.
Chandler guided her to the couch and sat her down, her high-pitched sobs muffled by her head pressed into his shoulder and neck.
"I'm here, Monica," was all he whispered as he rubbed her back soothingly.
Her sobs were the only sound, filling the apartment with the last remnants of her pain.
Two hours later, Monica dozed off on the couch, and Chandler covered her with a blanket from the bedroom. He stayed next to her through the night, sleeping every few minutes, but always alert to her movements, in case she awakened.
A few times, she stirred and mumbled incoherent phrases. A single tear gathered on her eyelashes, and trailed slowly down her cheek.
Rachel opened the apartment door, and stopped at the sight of Monica on the couch, and Chandler sleeping on the chair next to her. Walking quietly into the kitchen, she opened the refrigerator for a soda.
Chandler's eyes opened at the sound. Rachel waved, and he smiled tiredly in greeting as he rose and walked to the table. Rachel poured the drink in two glasses and slid one over to him as she sat.
"How is she?" she asked in a low voice as she sipped.
He shook his head as he answered, "She's fine, physically. Her pain is gone, but she's still pregnant, as far as her body knows. It's killing me to see her like this." His eyes darkened, and Rachel noticed.
"You know what, Chandler," Rachel mused, her chin in her hand, "She deserves you."
"What makes you say that?" he asked, taken aback.
Rachel only smiled as she finished her drink. Standing, she kissed him quickly on the cheek as she left.
She stopped at the door. "She deserves you, Chandler," she repeated. "She just needs to realize that." Waving again, she left.
A week later.
"Hello, Monica," Dr. Roberts smiled as she entered the small exam room. Monica only nodded in acknowledgement, pulling the paper gown around her tightly.
"What I'm going to do is feel your abdomen for any abnormalities, check the vaginal canal for discharge and/or bleeding, and then we'll talk for a bit."
Monica nodded. "Will it hurt?" she asked quietly.
The doctor shook her head. "It shouldn't," she assured her patient as she stood and approached the table. Monica lay back, and the obstetrician drew the paper gown up to the chest. Pressing down on her abdomen, Dr. Roberts informed her to say if she felt pain.
Monica scrunched her face slightly when the doctor's hands pressed above her pelvis.
"A little sore there?" Dr. Roberts asked off her reaction.
"Yes."
"That should disappear in a couple of weeks," Dr. Roberts said as she donned a pair of exam gloves. "Have you noticed any vaginal bleeding since you came home from the hospital?"
Monica shook her head. The doctor did a quick check of the vaginal canal, then threw the gloves away and washed her hands.
"Well, Monica, you seem to be fine," she smiled reassuringly as she sat down. "I just need to ask you a few questions. Can you think of any activities or occurrences that may have triggered this?"
Monica was silent, but her eyes were pained. Dr. Roberts noticed.
"Monica," she said in a motherly tone, "whatever you tell me will not be divulged to anyone who does not have clearance, but I need to know, so I can effectively treat you, okay?"
One tear escaped from her eye, and she dropped her head. Looking down at her lap, she told the doctor everything she remembered about that night.
When she finished, there was a silence in the room. Monica kept her head down, and the tears dropped on the white paper.
The hand on her knee caused her to look up.
"I'm proud of you," the older woman whispered. "What you told me took a lot of courage."
Monica's eyes met the silvery-blues of her doctor.
"This has been ongoing, I assume?"
Monica nodded.
"Are you planning to report him?"
"No," Monica shook her head. "Chandler, my friend, threatened him and he left, for good."
"Are you sure?" the doctor replied. "If he ever comes in contact with you, and does lay a hand on you, then what?" she asked with concern.
"Then I go to a lawyer," Monica replied with certainty. "Listen, Dr. Roberts, what happened to me hurt. But I have friends, and I'll be okay, eventually."
"All right, Monica," she responded after a short silence, "you're recovering nicely. Stay at home for a week longer, and then take it easy with physical activity of any kind. Your body is slowly shifting to the recognition that you are no longer pregnant. Sometimes it takes a while. If you have any questions, or if you notice any excessive bleeding, call the hospital, okay? They can page me, or tell you to come in."
The two women stood, and Monica shook her doctor's hand. "Thank you for being so supportive," she whispered.
"You're very welcome," Dr. Roberts smiled. "Keep me posted on how you're doing."
"I will," Monica promised as she retrieved her purse. "Thanks again," she said as she left.
"Hey," Chandler greeted as he walked through the door with Emily, who immediately ran to her mother and hugged her.
"Mom, guess what me and Chandler did today?"
"Chandler and I," Monica corrected.
"Chandler and I," Emily repeated in a monotonous tone, rolling her eyes.
"What did you do?" her mother asked, her eyes shining.
"We made scary faces out of cardboard and scared Uncle Joey."
Just then, Joey walked in. "Hey, there you are!" he said as he saw Emily. "C'mon, we're gonna scare the chick and the duck."
Emily jumped up and ran with Joey to the apartment across the hall.
"So how'd the appointment go?" Chandler asked, sinking onto the couch beside her.
"Fine. She says everything is normal."
"I'm glad to hear that," he replied softly.
"I need a favor," she said just as quietly.
"Anything."
"I've made an appointment with my lawyer tomorrow to sign the divorce papers. Will you come with me, you know, for moral support?"
"Of course."
"Thanks," Monica smiled wearily. He opened his arms and she accepted him, laying her head on his shoulder.
He sat quietly, content with the silence that enveloped them both, until she spoke.
"Why are you doing this?" Monica whispered timidly.
"Doing what?"
"This," she repeated, straightening and motioning between them. "You're always the first one there. You found me when I had the." she hesitated for a second. "The miscarriage," she forced out. "You were the first one to see me in the hospital. You were the one who brought me home. Why have you done all this?"
He swallowed hard as his mind struggled to form an answer.
"B.because.God, Mon, because I hate to see this happen to you. You should be the happiest woman in the world."
"Well, I would love that," Monica replied sarcastically. "But the experiences in my life have done precious little for my happiness, Chandler. Life isn't happy, okay?"
"Mon-"
"No, don't you 'Mon' me!" she interrupted, reading his look and losing control. "Where the hell do you get off telling me that I could be happy? You're the one who will never admit to being happy or fortunate. You don't have a husband who will beat the living shit out of you, given the chance, and the right amount of alcohol. You're not the one who will have to deal with the questions that your six-year-old daughter is sure to start asking once she realizes her father's never coming home again. You're the one who will never end up alone, worrying that the only chance you had at happiness only hurt you and left you broken. Don't you talk to me about happy!" she nearly screamed, her eyes red-hot, as angry tears spilled over.
He stared at her in shock as she stood in front of him, crying silently.
The silence was agony. Monica, full of nervous energy from her outburst, clenched her teeth behind closed lips to check her composure.
Chandler opened his mouth to speak, and then shut it as his eyes lost hers. Without another attempt for words, he walked out the door, closing it quietly behind him.
She had done it. She had taken it out on him, her best friend, her strongest supporter, and the one who would never hurt her.
The tears quickly dried as she wiped at them with her shirtsleeve. Resting her head on her pillow, her mind could only focus on her mistakes. Marrying the wrong man.having a child with him.
The door flew open violently, hitting the counter with a frightening crack, then slammed shut from its own momentum as Chandler stormed through it.
Monica jumped to her feet at his entrance. "Chandler, what-?"
"Listen, okay?" he interrupted her, his eyes flashing with fire. "I know all about being unhappy. I know exactly how it feels to look to my future and be scared to death. I know what it's like to want something so bad; it tears me up inside every time I see it. But I also know that." he stopped, running his hands through his hair nervously. "I know that I want it," he said, losing steam and volume. "I want to make you happy."
This silence was more unbearable than the last, as his eyes searched hers for a reaction.
I know, I know, I haven't updated in forever, but I've been so busy! Please leave reviews.tell me what you think, okay? (