A.N. Show of hands, who expected a new chapter this soon? Yeah, didn't think so. Me neither, but my parents are away and my sister is staying with me, but she just got her wisdom teeth out and apparently I'm not allowed to leave her alone in her Percocet-induced stupor, so her watching me has suddenly turned into me watching her in an ironic twist of events, hence, I am finding myself with some serious downtime. Not so lucky for me, but lucky for you, because here is chapter eight! I hope you enjoy it, and please review, you've been so awesome so far!!! This one's dedicated to the hopefully speedy recovery of my sister Hope, as she is definitely becoming a pain in my ass. Love to all!
-Maddy.
If you think that I could be forgiven,
I wish you would…
The red light was blinking on the answering machine when Monica and Will walked into her room after the party. An unsettled feeling in her stomach stemming from Chandler's attitude all evening led her to wait until Will was down the hall in the bathroom brushing his teeth before she hit play.
"Mon, it's me. Chandler. Listen, you didn't say goodbye when you left, so that's what I'm doing. Calling to say goodbye. Goodbye! Also, I'm calling to say- Hi Rachel! No, not hanging up. I am talking to Monica. No! Monica. Hello, I wanted to tell you that I have had a few drinks tonight, but I don't want you to be mad, and I want you to know that I didn't like watching you dance with Will. I hope that is what you felt when you saw me and Evelyn, not because I want you to be hurt but because it means you feel about me what I feel about you. And that is that I love you. I love you, Mon, and I'm sorry for everything. Everything. And I know this message isn't as eloquent as it could be, but I'm a little wasted right now. Love you. Goodnight."
She held back tears and angrily jabbed the delete button. "Your message has been erased." Good.
Unfortunately, the answering machine message in her head was on a constant loop repeating the words "I love you, Mon." And it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that he was doing this to her, and it wasn't fair that she was letting it affect her the way it was, and it wasn't fair that Will was down the hall brushing his teeth happily while she was listening to declarations of love from another guy. Will was so kind, and he adored her and made her smile and made her feel safe; why wasn't that enough?
He walked in and saw her sitting on the bed, and immediately asked what was wrong.
"Nothing," she said. "I'm just thinking."
"Anything you want to talk about?" he asked, sitting down next to him.
She was actually thinking, at that moment, of New Years Eve, and the look on Will's face when she told him she didn't want to be with him. And she was thinking about kissing Chandler, and she was thinking about how unfair Chandler was being, trying to take away the control she had when it was finally her calling the shots. And maybe it was one of those things, or maybe it was a combination of all of them, that made her kiss Will as hard as she could and take off his shirt. He fumbled with hers, and then with her bra, and they laid down on her bed kissing furiously.
She could tell that he was torn between being shocked at his good fortune and concerned with how out of character it was for her to be moving this quickly as she let her hand wander down to unzip his pants. He removed his lips from her neck for a moment, and tried to look into her eyes, asking a silent question, but she squeezed her eyes closed again and grabbed his neck to pull his lips back to hers.
Across campus, Chandler collapsed onto his bed next to an already sleeping Ross and tried to stop the room from spinning. When that failed, he tried to get the image of Monica and Will dancing from his mind, and when he was unsuccessful in that, tried to get the image of Monica and Will doing other things together out of his mind. Tortured and sleepless, he reached for the cordless phone and dialed a number he never thought he would dial again.
A mostly naked Monica and Will were running out of foreplay options. Usually level headed, Monica was doing her best to stop thinking, and for the past twenty minutes it had been working like a charm. She had even been able to nod when Will had asked, "Are you sure about this?" five minutes earlier, and was convincing herself that she had meant it when it happened.
He whispered her name in her ear as she let him trail passionate kisses from her shoulder down to her breasts. She moaned in response, her body clearly not having the same reservations as her mind, when suddenly, in a flash, he was off of her and pulling on his clothes.
"What? What's the matter?" she asked, alarmed.
He yanked at his pants silently, and she gathered the sheet around her exposed body. "Will, you're scaring me," she said.
"I'm scaring you?" he asked, sarcasm sounding foreign on his tongue.
"Yes… we were just… do you not want to?" she asked, trying to read his eyes.
He sighed heavily. "Of course I want to. Look at you… how could anyone not want to?"
She smiled. "Then what-"
"You really don't know what just happened, do you?" he interrupted her incredulously.
"We were fooling around, things were getting heated… you got up…" she reminded him.
"No, Monica. You said his name," Will said, unable to mask the hurt in his eyes as anger any longer.
She tried to process what he was telling her.
"I was kissing you, and you said his name. I thought… I thought you were serious about wanting me, Monica. I thought you said you didn't care about him."
Tears she had been holding back for days flooded from her eyes as she apologized over and over. "God, Will, I am so sorry. I'm so sorry… I don't know what to say."
"Don't say anything. I'm leaving," he said, zipping his duffel bag. She nodded and sniffled.
"And don't cry. You shouldn't get to cry," he said, anger returning.
"Will," she said, standing with the sheet around her as he headed for the door. He jerked around.
"What?" he asked, challenging her to try to find words to make it better, knowing that she wouldn't be able to.
"I do care about you," she said quietly.
He melted a little, watching her grasp for words to comfort him with, trying to contain her tears. She may have been less than honest, but she was still the same girl, the first girl he ever really cared about. He took a step towards her and held one of her hands.
"Let's forget about it," he said, swallowing his pride.
"Forget about it?" she asked. He caught the hopeful tone and extinguished it before he lost his strength.
"No. Not like that. We can't be together. I'd only be setting myself up again, and I can see that now. But I still care about you, and I want you in my life in some capacity… and unless I leave right now, I don't see that happening."
She nodded, a lone tear falling down her cheek. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I never wanted to hurt you. Please believe me," she said.
"I know," he told her, wiping the tear from her face.
"Please stay until the morning. Sleep in Rachel's bed. It's too late to drive…" she begged.
"No. I have to leave right now, Monica," he said firmly. "I don't blame you. Honestly." He kissed her gently on the lips.
"Call me so I know you got back safely," she said, standing at the door as he was leaving.
"I will. Goodbye, Monica," he said, giving her one last half-hearted smile before walking out the door, and she knew that no matter what he said, out of her life.
It rang three times, and her answering machine picked up. "Hi, this is Evelyn, I'm not in right now…" Chandler slammed the phone down, causing Ross to turn over in his sleep, and pulled the covers over his head, knowing that Evelyn being out was probably the best thing that could have happened to him that night. It was time to just sleep it off. He tossed and turned relentlessly, unaware that in a dorm room somewhere nearby, his best friend and the reason he couldn't sleep was curled up in her own bed, tearfully doing the same thing.
Okay well that's complication #2, done! What do you think? Review please!! Thanks, have a lovely day.