A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews. They are very appreciated. Thanks to Steph for the beta and to Exintaris for further corrections.
Blue Moon
"You're marrying the wrong man and you make the biggest mistake of your life. You don't love him."
"What do you know about love?"
"I know what I felt that night. Let me ask you one question. Can you really live the rest of your life never knowing what we could have been?"
"I don't have a choice."
"Yes, you do. Yes... you do. I'm the one who doesn't have a choice because I... because I can't stop loving you."
Rachel opened her eyes and stared into the darkness of their bedroom. Slowly she lifted her hand and wiped the wetness away from her face.
That dream again.
Ever since she had been on the set with Joey four weeks ago, she had the same dream over and over again. Almost every night.
"Cold feet, totally normal," they said. "Pre-wedding anxiety," they said. "Everyone freaks out a little before they get married," they said.
She wasn't freaking out, she felt like she had never been calmer about anything else in her entire life. She was walking into a trap and she knew it. She went with open eyes because she had no choice.
They had a kid together. Emma needed a father. And it wasn't like she didn't love Ross, she did. He was everything he had been during the time they had been together first. It was enough. It had to be.
She slowly got up, trying not to wake the sleeping man beside her. She went to the room where Emma was sleeping and looked down at her daughter adoringly. Never would she have guessed how much you love your own child. How holding that little person in your arms for the first time that you yourself created makes you want to stop the earth from turning, to wipe out everything that is bad and evil on it so your kid could grow up in a perfect world.
How it gives you the will – and the strength – to do everything in your power to protect this precious life.
She was willing to do everything… absolutely everything to make her happy.
Restraining herself from caressing her daughter's soft skin or touch her silky hair, she turned and headed for the kitchen to get herself something to drink.
Glass of water in hand she stood then at the window and looked out into the night. A full moon stood in the sky and sent a blue white light through the window.
It made her look at her hand where the light was reflected and broken into sparkly colors by the diamond on her engagement ring.
He had given it to her the day Emma was born. After she had moved in with him, they had gotten closer again. They shared the excitement for the birth of their daughter, they went shopping for baby clothes and everything they would need. It had been fun.
They kissed one night and all the nights after that. They never slept together though. It never came up. It was like Ross felt her reluctance and wanted to give her time.
She loved him for that as much as for everything else. She was sure it would be enough.
When he had kneeled down in front of her bed, holding that ring and asking with tears in his eyes if she wanted to marry him, she knew that there was only one right answer. She had said yes.
Everyone had been happy for them. Even Joey had been.
Ever since that day he seemed happier somehow, like a burden had been taken from him. He went out again, he raided Monica's fridge again and - most importantly - he smiled again.
It made her happy too. It started to feel like old times again, like being just friends.
Six months after Emma was born she knew she couldn't stall anymore. She had to sleep with Ross. He was her fiancée after all, although they hadn't set a date for the wedding yet.
Ross tried his best not to let her see how relieved he was when she told him she wanted to sleep in his bed that night. All the time he had went out of his way to show no sign of impatience whatsoever. But she had recognized the urgency he felt, she had been there once too.
When they were finally in bed together, her body seemed to react to him on an almost instinctual level, it seemed to remember his kisses and his touches and she felt herself reacting to all of his caresses almost against her will. Maybe it was the fact that she had deprived them of sexual contact for over a year. Maybe it was the history they shared. But whatever it was, it made for a night that left her fully satisfied and utterly exhausted.
She felt herself wishing it hadn't been that good. That maybe if it had been horrible, if it had been nothing against the last night she had had sex, it would be easier to make a decision.
Or maybe it wasn't good enough. Maybe it should've been so good that it would've wiped that night out of her memory. She had the feeling though, that nothing could make that happen.
Her gaze wandered over to the windows of the other building. Monica's apartment was lying in the dark, like always around this time when she couldn't sleep and was standing there.
But there was a faint light glowing in Joey's apartment, it looked like he was still awake. His schedule allowed him to sleep till noon and stay up late, it was not uncommon that he would still be up. And it was a Friday night, maybe he had a girl over.
Or maybe not.
The thought startled her all of a sudden. Maybe he couldn't sleep either, maybe he was sitting there, unable to stop thinking of her, just the way she couldn't stop thinking about him.
"…never knowing what we could've been…"
The line from the scene she had seen him play echoed through her brain loudly, drowning out every other thought, every other consideration.
Did she owe it to herself to find that out? Find out what it could've been?
She shook her head to chase the thought away, thinking about how she owed it to her daughter to give her a stable family, a happy childhood.
Is she going to be happy if her mother is not? Didn't she owe it to her child to find out where she could find happiness?
But what if it didn't work? What if all that would be left after her quest for happiness were two destroyed relationships?
She shuddered at the thought. What an awfully big risk.
Still, the light in the window kept calling to her.
Find out. See what it could be.
She turned away from the window, trying to escape the lure, the temptation. Giving into it, listening to her gut instead of her brain was what had gotten her into this mess in the first place.
Her heart hammered wildly against her ribs. Maybe it was not your gut that got you into trouble, it seemed to want to say to her, maybe it was your brain that did, after your gut had shown you something you hadn't even seen before.
Absently she changed into a pair of sweatpants that lay on the couch and pulled a shirt over her head. She grabbed her key and went to the door, not thinking, just giving in to the feeling of having to do this. Before she opened the door, she looked at her ring again, twisting it around her finger a few times.
Then she took it off, placed it on the shelf next to the keys and left the apartment.
She had been standing in front of Joey's door for several minutes when she suddenly heard a woman yelling.
'You're such an idiot,' she thought wryly to herself, 'Of course he has a girl over. As if he would be waiting around for a woman who is going to marry his best friend.'
She turned around to go when the apartment door flew open and an angry looking individual came storming out. A blonde woman, late twenties, quite pretty.
Seeing her standing there, the woman suddenly stopped and turned to her with a cutting grin.
"Lining up already, huh? Just make sure he remembers your name," she spat and then ran through the hall and down the stairs.
She turned back after having watched the woman leave and found Joey gaping at her. His face was smeared with lipstick and she wondered oddly why that girl had put on that much lipstick if she was about to go on date. His shirt was open, revealing naked skin that she could barely wrench her gaze off. Her fingertips tingled at the memory of how that skin had felt under them. What touching it had made her feel… and do…
A troubled sigh escaped her and when she finally looked him in the eyes again, he still looked utterly confused.
"Rach… what…" he stammered toneless.
"I wanted to talk to you," she answered and took a step into his direction. He moved to the side and let her step into the apartment.
"Just a sec," he murmured before he vanished into the bathroom.
She took a look around the apartment, taking in the surrounding of the place that once had been her home, that had been so hard to leave.
A piece of clothing lying on the floor caught her eye and she bent down to get it. A bra. Red satin with black lace, push-up. Expensive.
'Trying too hard, missy' she thought. 'That's not what he really wants. What he really needs. He needs to know that someone loves him for who he is, not for what he appears to be.'
'You're one of the few people who know who he really is,' a voice in her head gave back.
As Joey came back from the bathroom, face clean, shirt buttoned up, she still held the bra in her hand.
He looked down at his feet embarrassed.
She put the bra on the kitchen counter and walked to him. "What happened?"
"Said the wrong name," he admitted in a grave voice.
"It's not uncommon," she joked, thinking about Ross's disastrous wedding in London.
"Had to be the same name," Joey gave back, locking his gaze with her.
Her smile froze on her face at his open admission. But it soon dawned on her that this was her chance to say what she had been coming here for.
"I don't know if I can marry him."
Joey sighed and looked down. She knew exactly when he saw that the ring was missing. It was the second he froze. Then he took her hand and held it up.
"What did you come here for?" he asked wide eyed, almost angry.
"To find out if I'm making a mistake."
"Being here… like that…" he lifted her hand a bit for emphasis, "…that's the mistake."
She swallowed around the lump in her throat trying to keep the tears at bay for once.
"Lately… I'm asking myself… what it would've been like. If I should've given this… us… a chance."
His expression softened and he lifted his hand and tentatively brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "Why? Because you felt sorry for me?"
The warmth that radiated from his hand compelled her to lean her face against it, closing her eyes and just reveling in the comfort of his touch.
"Because I love you," she breathed.
These words were like a glass, like a vessel that contained what she felt for him. Ever since that night that glass had filled, drop by drop and now, being filled to the rim, it gave those words a completely new meaning.
Whatever she felt for Ross, it was Joey she was in love with. It had never been as clear to her as right in that moment.
When he didn't move, didn't react to what she had said at all, she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest.
"Do you still love me?" she asked haltingly.
"That doesn't matter anymore," he said in a broken voice.
"Why?"
"Because we're far beyond having the liberty of trying things out. This isn't a game anymore. You know that."
She lifted her head and looked up at him and seeing the grim determination in his face, she knew that words might not be enough anymore in this situation.
With a quick movement she brought her hand behind his neck, pulling his face to her.
The first kiss was more like accidentally bumping their mouths together, but when he leaned in again, gently brushing his smooth lips over hers, she remembered what kissing him had been like. She eagerly opened her mouth to him, overwhelmed by the urge to feel him, to taste him. For a while he returned her kiss but then he pulled back trembling.
There was no mistaking how much this had affected him, how much it still meant to him. He had to see that there was something there, something that maybe could convince him to ask her to stay.
While she watched him trying to get himself under control again, she asked, "What… what about that?"
He looked back at her and he didn't hide what he was feeling, what he was thinking. But he didn't ask her to stay either. It was something else he asked her.
"Are you sure that it's gonna be enough? Are you ready to bet your and your child's happiness on that? Is that what you really want?"
The question hit her where it hurt the most. But he was right, it was the only valid question here. Would it be enough, could she risk the one thing that mattered the most to her – Emma's future – on the basis of one single night? Of a feeling? A kiss?
With every second she hesitated to give him the answer he needed to hear, she watched him retreating from her. Not physically, emotionally. He tried not to let her hurt him again. Finally, he'd learned his lesson. From her.
She knew that her time to give him an answer was up when he stepped back from her, defeat etched into his features. Obviously, trying to protect himself against her had not worked at all. Hurt and disappointment was coming off him in waves and guilt weighed her down at the thought that she had done that to him – again. Showing him something only to take it away again, because the only feelings she always considered were her own.
"Go," he said pleadingly.
Knowing that there was nothing more to say, she did.
He knew the pain by now. The pain of seeing a door shut behind her, the pain of seeing her leave. For some reason, she always listened to him when he told her to go. He couldn't bring a dog to sit when he told it to, but Rachel always did what he said. She never objected, she never said she wanted to stay. She just turned around and left.
Maybe it was because that was what she really wanted.
Feeling pathetic about it but doing it anyway he walked to the door and looked through the peephole, trying to determine if she was still standing out there. Because if she was, he would rip the door open and drag her back in.
He would tell her that he didn't want her to go, that yeah, of course, he loved her and that it did matter to him that she said she loved him back. He would've told her that he only hadn't said anything, had tried so hard to suppress the happiness he felt at her words because he hadn't wanted her to make her decision because of him. He wanted her to stay with him because it was what she wanted.
Seeing the hallway empty made him slump against the door in defeat. Of course she had left, she always did. He slid down the door and sat on the floor, leaning his back against the door. It still felt like she was there with him, as if she hadn't left.
He wondered if he would ever stop wishing she hadn't.
As soon as the door had closed between him and her, she felta compulsionto open it again, to go to him, kiss him again… anything.
But she knew that as long as she had no answer to his question, coming back and doing all this would hurt him even more.
She lowered herself to the floor, hugging her knees to herself and rested her back against the door. She needed to make a decision, she desperately needed to find out what the answer to his question was.
There was no question about whether or not she wanted to be with him; she did. The question was if she wanted it enough to take the risk that it might not work out.
A bump against the door made her jump a bit. Then she heard something sliding down the door from inside. Joey. She could almost feel his presence through the door that separated them.
Turning her head she rested her cheek against the wood, wishing she could reach him somehow, comfort him, make it better.
She lifted her hand and gently caressed the place behind which she imagined his head would be.
"I think it is what I really want," she whispered, inaudible even to herself, "if only I wasn't so scared."
With that she got up and left.
As she came back into the apartment, she put her key away and blindly groped for the ring in the dark. Panic flashed through her when she found the shelf empty.
"I have it," a hoarse voice sounded from the couch.
Her blood turned cold and she couldn't move for a while. The thought of what he was thinking right now, of what he was surely suspecting was almost unbearable.
Now she had managed what she had so carefully tried to avoid. Now she had hurt them both.
She sat down on the couch and started, "Ross…" but he didn't let her speak.
"How long has this been going on?" he asked and she just knew from the sound of his voice that he had been crying.
"Ross, please, there is nothing going on."
"I know you get up almost every night… for months. I never bothered to check if you're still here but now…"
She didn't even know how it could be possible, but her tortured heart hurt even more at his obvious pain. He thought she'd betrayed him. Not just once, but for a long time.
"I never left. Tonight was the only time. I just… needed to talk to him. Nothing happened," she pleaded.
"Then why did you leave that behind?" he replied, holding the ring up like the condemning evidence that it was.
Lying, evading, glossing over the truth was no option anymore now. She had to tell him the truth, she owed him that much.
"I… I… maybe I thought something might happen but…"
"But what?" he asked coldly, his sudden change of tone confusing her.
"He sent me back to you," she admitted embarrassedly, knowing full well how this had to sound to him. Like he was her second choice, runner-up to his best friend.
"Is this where you want to be?" he asked the obvious question, still very restrained but with emotions lingering just beyond the surface.
She tried to sound determined when she answered, "It's where I belong."
His voice sounded almost irritated when he reminded her. "That's not what I asked."
"That's the only answer I have for you," she admitted helplessly.
He didn't say anything to that for a long while. Then, just as she thought he might expect her to say something else, he suddenly asked, "Why do you think you belong here?"
Hastily she answered, "Emma needs a father…" before it occurred to her that this wasn't the first thing she should've said. It was just the first thing that came to mind.
"Emma has a father," he said, the softness coming back into his voice, "That has got nothing to do with anything."
"But…" she started to object only to be cut off again.
"I don't want you to marry me because you feel like you have to. I want you to marry me because you love me."
"I love you, Ross," she finally said what should have been her first answer.
"What about him?" he asked, heartbreakingly soft and without any kind of reproach. Imagining how she would've reacted in a situation like that, she couldn't help but admire him deeply, to love him for being so understanding.
But even now, even with the question standing so unavoidably in the room, she couldn't seem to find the right answer.
"Ross, we have a baby. We have seven years of history. We love each other. We know what to expect from each other. All I ever had with him was…"
She couldn't bring herself to finish that sentence. She felt as if it had been said one time too many. In fact, it never should've been said in the first place. It was so wrong.
All she ever had with Joey was a friendship that exceeded everything she ever had with a man. She had a closeness, a level of trust and a deep feeling of safety even Ross couldn't give her all the time. She had laughter and silliness. She had award shows and learning lines with him. She had pizza and wet paper towels. She had a night that she would never forget for as long as she lived. She knew she had his heart. And he had hers.
But she still wasn't sure if this would be enough. Not with the way things were now.
Instead of finishing her sentence, she wordlessly held her left hand out to Ross, gesturing for him to give her the ring back.
He still held it between his fingers and for a moment it looked like he was about to put it on her hand again. But then he pulled back and let the ring vanish into his palm.
"It's a ring, Rachel," he said, "not a chain. It's yours and you can have it back. But only if you really want to."
She started to tell him she wanted to, but the lump in her throat prevented her from getting the words out. Helplessly she watched him getting up and walking towards the bedroom.
Standing in the door he hesitated for a while, shoulders shaking.
"I'm so sorry, Ross," she finally managed tonelessly and she felt that this – and only this – was the truth about what she felt.
"In a way... I think I always knew it," Ross said from the door and she was almost relieved that he wasn't crying. He even seemed to be calm somehow. "Ever since... I heard him talk about his feelings... I knew... I knew it was more than just a one time thing."
tbc