Rachel lay awake in her bed, unwilling and unable to sleep. Her first night in her old, new, home and she stared at her ceiling, wondering why Joey and she had never had sex in this room. She practically hadn't slept in her room ever since that first night.
She asked herself why that particular fact seemed important enough for her to puzzle over it, until she decided it wasn't. Absent-mindedly caressing her belly, she tried to come up with something else to think about, to divert her thoughts from the one direction they seemed inevitably drawn in to. Keeping herself from thinking about Joey sleeping in the room right next to hers.
Of course, that thought was reassuring somehow. It was good to know that he was so close. It had been what seemed so unbearable while living at Ross's, that he was so out of her reach. On the other hand, knowing he was so close also proved to be a constant temptation, a constant reason to fight the overwhelming wish to go over and snuggle into his embrace as she had done only a few months ago, even if now it seemed to be a lifetime away. But again, through all the grief over that, moving back in with him seemed to offer a ray of hope and she knew she wouldn't do anything to jeopardize that. So as much as she wanted to be as close to him as possible, even more than that she wanted to keep to his rules.
Sighing she got up to get herself something to drink, maybe even watch a bit TV or something to distract herself.
When she stepped outside her room, she was surprised to find Joey asleep on the lounger, and even more surprised to see that he apparently hadn't fallen asleep in front of the TV, because 'Stevie' was turned off. Looking even more closely, she saw that he had brought a pillow from his bed. Everything seemed to indicate that he had intended to sleep on the lounger.
The blanket he had covered himself with had slipped down and lay on the floor, and Joey was curled together, shivering a bit in his sleep.
Smiling, Rachel remembered finding him almost exactly like this on their first night, and she carefully picked up the blanket and covered him again. When the blanket touched Joey's body, he bolted upright, just like back then, only now Rachel had anticipated that and moved backwards.
"Geez, Rachel, you scared me," he mumbled sleepily.
"I'm sorry, Joe. I just… you seemed to be cold."
He wrapped the blanket closely around himself and attempted a tired smile. Then he rubbed his eyes while replying, "Yeah, I was. Thanks. Stupid blanket keeps slipping down."
"Why are you sleeping out here?" she asked the obvious question.
Joey froze and put his hands down, avoiding looking at her.
"Uhm… I'm not sleeping that good in my bed anymore," he finally admitted quietly.
She didn't need to ask any more questions; she knew what he meant. Too many memories. It was one of the reasons she had been glad at first, not to have to live in this apartment for a while.
"At first I fell asleep while watching TV and then I got used to it, I guess," he continued.
"It's not the first time I've found you like this," she said rather unnecessarily. He surely remembered that night, too well.
"Yeah," he said with the hint of a smile in his voice, "Only this time, I didn't hurt you."
"No," she agreed tonelessly, "You didn't."
He didn't reply anything, but she was shocked speechless when he took her hand in his. His touch felt so good, the warmth of his strong hand so comforting, her resolve to resist him, to keep to his rules, melted like snow in the spring sun. Just at that moment, a very intense sensation inside her belly made her gasp. She had felt the baby moving around inside her before, but it was always some soft, bubbly feeling that couldn't be felt from outside. Now there was definite kicking.
"What is it?" Joey asked concerned.
"Baby's kicking," she whispered, as if talking too loud could make it stop.
Joey looked up at her with a mixture of a plea and hesitation. She wrapped her fingers around his hand that was holding hers and placed it on her belly, right over the spot where she had felt the movement. Doing that, she couldn't resist the urge to leave her hand over his, lightly weaving her fingers through his, just enjoying this unexpected and so very welcome closeness. As the baby kicked again, Joey gasped, too.
"God, this is so amazing," he whispered just like she had done, but now it made her smile.
"You don't need to whisper," she encouraged him. "Maybe she wants to hear her daddy's voice."
Joey reluctantly scooted a bit closer to her and crouched down so his head was level with her belly. "Hi, baby," he said, "I'm Joey, I'm… I'm your daddy. You and your mom, well… you're living with me… again… so… I guess we're gonna hear from each other more often in the future." He suddenly pulled back and shook his head, apparently dissatisfied with himself. Then the baby kicked again, even more vigorously than before. "She thinks I'm an idiot," Joey remarked dryly.
"No," Rachel objected, "She… she likes you."
Joey left his hand on her belly for a while longer, but the kicking stopped just as abruptly as it had started, and much to her dismay he eventually pulled his hand back.
"You've never told me how you feel about having her, about having my baby," he suddenly asked, taking her by surprise again.
"I still don't know that, Joey" she answered truthfully. "On one hand, I always wanted kids, and after Monica's wedding I sometimes even fantasized about having your baby. Maybe I already knew on some level, but the thought of being pregnant with your child always made me happy. But on the other hand, I can't stop thinking that if I hadn't gotten pregnant we would still be together. It makes me think that getting pregnant made me lose you, and I'm so not happy about that."
Joey looked up at her indignantly, his mouth pressed together into a grim line, anger plainly visible in his eyes. "You lost me because you slept with Ross, not because you're pregnant. You know that," he said in a tone that was more questioning but accusing.
"But nothing would've happened, if I hadn't been pregnant," she tried to make him see her reasoning.
"Don't you think it would've happened anyway? I mean, you told Monica you needed to close that door and everything."
She didn't even need to think about what to say to that. She had rehearsed that speech in her head over and over again and sudden felt glad somehow to finally have the chance to tell him.
"Joey, the one thing I needed to do was talk to Ross. Tell him that I didn't love him anymore. That didn't even have anything to do with you. Being in love with you just made me realize that, but I fell out of love with Ross a long time before things between you and me even started. What Ross and I needed to do was acknowledge that we were over. Because that is what he felt, too. He wasn't in love me any more than I was with him. He was in love with the idea of being back together with me. Me telling him that I was in love with someone else made him see that. Being pregnant made me emotional and confused and vulnerable, and that was not the ideal state of mind to have that conversation. That was why everything went downhill from there."
Joey still looked at her with knitted eyebrows. "So you two did it after you told him you were in love with me?"
It was stunning how precisely he managed to cut through her bullshit, her carefully woven construct to explain her failure away. How he stripped it down to the one bare fact that still made it an inexcusable betrayal.
"Yeah, we did. I'm sorry," she finally whispered around the lump in her throat.
He still didn't seem mollified and still looked angry. "And now you're blaming it on her?"
Finally she caught on what had made him so angry. It was the thought that she tried to blame someone else – his child of all people – for her own mistake.
"I'm not blaming it on her," she hastened to assure him. With a pitiful crack in her voice she added, "I know it's my fault and only my fault."
His expression softened considerably as he watched her frantically wiping her eyes and it almost looked as if he was sorry for pushing her like that.
"Rach, I…" he started, but she waved off his attempt at apologizing and tried to smile through her tears.
"It's okay, Joey. I know what you feel. I felt it too, once. And that's the worst part of it. I know how pointless it is to hope you'll get over this, because I never could."
He shook his head, sighing and averted his eyes.
"Rachel, what … what if it had been me? If I had lost my head for a moment after learning we were going to have a baby; if I had slept with some woman…"
Jealousy flashed through her with an intensity that knocked the breath out of her. The urge to kill, to hurt anyone who even came close to touching the man she loved cemented a devastating realization that she had carried as an unfinished and painful thought inside her head ever since the moment she had known he knew about her betrayal.
After a resigned sigh she replied quietly, "That's what I mean. I can't imagine having been able to forgive you for that. I know I can't expect it from you."
She saw him looking down at his hands and from the way his jaw muscles clenched she knew he was struggling to find something to say to that. Wanting to spare him the useless effort, she got up and gently caressed his hair before she turned to her room.
"Good night, Joe."
………
Rachel felt drained. Ever since she'd moved in with Joey again she had had the feeling that she was getting back on her feet again, but today's meeting with her father had been more than taxing.
Monica smiled at her brightly when she stepped into the apartment and Chandler – in a completely unfamiliar fashion – even pulled a chair out for her so she could sit down comfortably.
"So," Monica said, looking expectantly and put a cup of tea in front of her, "What did he say?"
"Well," she said, trying to sound in control. "Say might not be the right word, 'yell' would be more fitting."
"That bad?"
"He wasn't so much mad about me being pregnant, but when I told him I didn't want him to know who the father is, he completely lost it."
Shuddering she remembered every detail of the conversation she had had half an hour ago. It had actually been a surprise that he had kept up the appearance of calm seeing her come to his table obviously pregnant, but things had definitely degraded from then on.
"Why didn't you tell him?" Monica wondered aloud. "I mean, he's your father, and everyone else knows, even your mother. How long do you think you can keep it from him anyway?"
"It's not that I want to keep it from him, but… I don't want him to bother Joey. He has enough on his mind as it is."
Chandler looked puzzled. "Why would he bother Joey?"
"Because… he's expecting the father of the baby to marry me and when I told him that this isn't likely to happen…" Rachel sighed at her own lie. Because that wasn't exactly what she had told her father. For some reason, she hadn't been able to bring herself to admit defeat to him. To admit that it had been her fault that there was no chance her and the father of her child would ever get married.
She shook her head, tired of lying. Even knowing that Monica wouldn't let her get away with that, she opted for telling her the truth.
"Well, I told him that the father and I have a few… relationship problems we have to work through before we're gonna think about marriage, and that I don't want him to interfere."
Monica raised an eyebrow. "Relationship problems? Rachel, I really don't want to poke into the wound, but there isn't a relationship. You have to tell your father that sooner or later."
Avoiding Monica's intense gaze, Rachel looked down at her hands, nervously twisting her fingers together.
"Maybe… there will be one again sometime," she told her hands.
Monica gasped a little which made Rachel look up at her.
"Is there… is there anything we don't know?"
Rachel shook her head sadly. "No… no there isn't, but… "
Monica had reached over the table and took her hand, forcing her to look up at her.
"What?" Monica asked softly and in a tone that assured Rachel that she wasn't judging or trying to tell her what to do.
"I can't give up on what we had…" she tried to explain what was but a feeling to her, even if it was a strong one. "I can't give up on him, you know? I just can't."
"What are you going to do?"
"I have no idea. I just need to make him understand that it is him I want to be with. And not just because of the baby."
The beeping of a timer prompted Monica to let go of her hand and busying herself with making tea.
With Monica's back turned to her, it seemed to be easier to ask the one question that had been on her mind lately.
"Do you… uh… did he… you know… uh… go out or anything lately?"
Certainly the way she had gotten that question out did nothing to make it seem casual or breezy. And the way Monica froze in her movements did nothing to put her at ease about the subject. Nor did Chandler, falling all over himself, trying to leave the room.
Monica turned to her after what seemed like a long time. "Not that he'd said anything," she said at length. "But…"
"But what?" Rachel prompted her impatiently.
"Rachel, it's been a few months," Monica replied evasively. "… and… I mean, he's just a guy and…" She seemed to search for the right words before she looked at her, apparently pleading for her to understand what she was trying to say when she added, "and… he's Joey."
The simplicity of the statement left nothing else to say. Monica was right. It had been after all, something that had constantly been on her mind for the first weeks of their relationship.
(Flashback day 15)
The room was silent save for the sound of labored breath from two people.
"Wow," she whispered breathlessly. "And I thought that was a myth."
"Well, you're not the first woman to think that."
Without even looking at him Rachel could sense him flinch at his own words. Fifteen days of carefully steering clear of the subject of Joey's former lifestyle choices had done nothing to make her feel comfortable with the topic. And she knew that it weighed on Joey, too. Often enough over the past years had she scolded him for the way he treated women. And now, with him claiming to have left that behind, he went out of his way to avoid everything that made him look like the man he had been before. But unexplainable even to herself, she started to miss his leering, sexist, carefree self that often had had her rolling her eyes. It seemed that this was obviously as much a part of him as his sweetness and loyalty. It was what made him Joey, what made him the man she had chosen to be with.
So it seemed like it was about time to get the problem out into the open.
"How many were there? How many women… before me?" she asked tentatively, dreading the answer. She felt the movement of a shrug beside her.
"I don't know… I haven't kept count. I guess it's somewhere around… three hundred… maybe."
"Oh boy," was everything she could come up with as a response before she fell silent, contemplating that number. Broaching the subject also meant having to confront how she felt about his past, deciding if it was something she could live with.
"It's a lot, huh?" Joey asked after a few minutes of silence.
His slightly insecure tone alerted her to the fact that she might frighten him with her silence, but since she still didn't know what to think, she settled for confirming his question. "Yeah, it's a lot." To avoid another stretch of uncomfortable silence, she asked the first question that popped into her head. "I mean… how can I be special amongst three hundred women?"
Only after the words were out did she realize, how incredibly self-centered that sounded. But Joey, being the sweet guy he was, turned over to her, slightly caressing her face, looking as if he was surprised she still even allowed him the gesture. "You would be special amongst a million."
She smiled at the words but for some reason, a little voice inside of her demanded even more proof and elaboration on that fact.
"I don't know. You know, with Ross… I knew the two women he could compare me with and … one of them was a lesbian… so with three hundred…"
Again, she wished she hadn't quite put it that way. Bringing Ross into this was a sure way to make the conversation even more uncomfortable. Or so she thought.
"Try to see it this way…" Joey said unperturbed. "With Ross, you came out first out of three, one of them not even qualified for the competition. With me, you come out first of three hundred."
It was an appealing thought, and it even made sense. But since she still tried to find out what she was feeling, she fell silent again.
"Look Rach," Joey began again. "I can't change what's in the past. If this is a problem…"
At hearing the sadness in his voice, something suddenly occurred to her. The question here wasn't what she felt about three hundred women. The question was what she felt about Joey. If she did – or did not – want to be with him. And her gut reaction to the thought of not wanting to be with him answered that question pretty clearly.
"No no, Joey, it's not a problem. I mean… I always thought it would be one, or it should be… but in my heart… in my heart I know it isn't. Because I know I'm special for you. Not because you said it, but because you make me feel special. You really do. And I'm sorry I brought up Ross again. He can't compare to you… he was only with three women and that didn't prevent him from breaking my heart."
Joey stared at her with wide eyes, obviously taken by surprise by her sudden outburst after being quiet for so long. She shook her head, smiling at herself.
"What I want to say is…," she said gently, while lifting her hand to smooth the furrows of his frown off his forehead. "It doesn't matter what's in the past… as long as it stays there."
His answer was a heartbreakingly sweet kiss.
"I was kinda dreading this conversation," he admitted after breaking the contact that had just started to make her want more. "I know that… couldn't have been easy."
Since the kiss had quenched her desire for conversation, she looked for a way to bring it to a smooth end.
"Joe, it's… it's who you are and I… like who you are. Besides… all that experience has its advantages," she grinned, suggestively wriggling her eyebrows.
"You haven't even seen the half of it, baby," he grinned back.
"Then why don't you show me?" she challenged.
With a quick movement he was over her, moving in for a kiss that promised to be not quite as tender as the one before.
"I was just waiting for you to ask," were the last coherent words spoken for a long while afterwards.
(End flashback)
"Rachel?"
Monica's concerned question brought her back to her dreadful reality. Thinking back to what they had been talking about she heaved a miserable sigh.
"Yeah, he's Joey. You're probably right. And it's none of my business anymore anyway."
A/N: Please review and let me know what you think.