Hey my dears!
THANK YOU for allllll of the wonderful comments, reviews, and love I've been getting! I appreciate you all sooo much, more than you know!
Computer update: I'm now typing on a fully replaced keyboard (which, I was not expecting, but, yay!) So, no more spacebar issues, and me and the computer both survived with little to no injuries. Ah, to be able to press "space" without thinking about it is a beautiful, beautiful thing.
One day I'll stop mentioning this, but I'm having a blast on Twitter with my friends! I'm {at}crokkk2 on there. Come join the fun. :)
I had a couple of questions about "Double Date" andddd I'm sorry to say...still not in that headspace yet. I'll get there, eventually, I promise. I do have another chapter of Jukebox Hero going (I told you I loved the music, right? haha). But I'm working a LOT (I work in healthcare, pray for us!) and do have four classes too and I'm definitely trying to keep these updates for WATC weekly. But, hey, it's life! Just don't give up on me, and I promise I'll get through with DD eventually. :)
Alright, enough of my ramblings. I hope you enjoy, and please tell me your thoughts when you get to the end? Much love!
Monday, May 17, 1999 - 8:33 AM
"Mon, what's going on with Chandler?" Rachel asked. Monica was keeping herself busy with the breakfast dishes and she was glad Rachel couldn't see her face, "he hasn't been over here for breakfast in a long time. Actually, he barely comes over anymore at all."
Monica sighed and rolled her eyes. She'd already been asked the same question by Ross and Phoebe too.
"I don't know," she replied, shaking her head.
"He's acting so strange, you can't tell me you haven't noticed," Rachel replied, "the two of you are usually so close, and you tell each other everything."
Monica did notice. Not only did she notice, but she knew the reason. She wanted to talk to him, clear the air, but she hadn't had even a second alone with him, and she knew that was on purpose. He'd been avoiding her, and that meant he was avoiding everybody.
Even if he was at the coffee house, he hadn't sat next to her and kept his attention on their friends, and always found a way to leave out of there before she did so they wouldn't be alone.
After Richard left, she tried to see him on Thursday night. She knew that every Thursday since Nanna passed away was probably one of the hardest days of the week for him, and she wanted to help him through that. But he wasn't home. She wondered where he was.
She needed to corner him to talk with him and try to get this situation straightened out, for her sanity.
She missed him.
"Do you think it's because he's still really upset about his grandmother?" Rachel asked, snapping Monica out of her thoughts.
Monica sighed, "I'm not sure," she said.
Rachel furrowed her eyebrows together, "You haven't talked to him?" She asked, surprised.
"No, Rach, I haven't," Monica said sharply, scrubbing the already clean pan even more.
Rachel's head moved backward in shock, "Monica..."
She dropped the pan in the sink and shook her head at herself. She needed to calm down.
She and Chandler were close, super close, best friends. Of course, their other friends asked her what was going on with him. She was the one that would know.
"I'm sorry," Monica replied, "I didn't mean to snap at you." She turned around and took off her rubber gloves. It was hard not to tell her friend and roommate everything that happened in Colorado and what Chandler said about wanting to be in a relationship with her.
But she couldn't tell her. Like Chandler, she didn't want what happened between them to become the source of gossip over the next several weeks, and Rachel was probably the worst one she could tell in that aspect.
"I don't know what's going on with him," she said, attempting to calm her voice as much as she could, "he won't talk to me." That much was true, she thought.
"Well, did something happen in Colorado? Did you two have an argument or something?"
Monica shook her head, "No, Colorado was great," she replied. She looked down at the floor and shut her eyes for a moment, the memories of that night playing in her head like a movie she couldn't shut off. She sighed and licked her lips, "Maybe it is something to do with losing Nanna," she tried, and hoped it sounded enough like the truth to stop this line of questioning.
"I guess," Rachel shrugged, "it's just weird for him. I never thought I'd say this, but I miss his stupid jokes and awkward sarcasm."
Monica swallowed nervously, "Yeah, I miss hanging out with him too."
"I'll try and talk to him," Rachel said, standing from her chair, "after work."
Monica pressed her lips together. She wondered how that would go, what Chandler would say to her, "Maybe that will work," she offered.
Rachel narrowed her eyes at her, but nodded, "Yeah, maybe you should try too," she suggested, but Monica only looked away from her.
Rachel scoffed, put on her coat, and shook her head at Monica, "Okay look, I don't know what's up with you two, and I don't know why you won't tell me. But I know something is. You don't just stop being as close as the two of you were like that."
"Rachel…" Monica started, but Rachel shook her head.
"No, fine. Don't tell me. I'm going to work," she said, "I just don't understand. I don't understand why you're not telling me about it, and I don't understand why you're not trying to fix it with him," she put the long skinny strap of her purse on her shoulder, then turned on her heel and left the apartment without another word.
Monday, May 17, 1999 – 6:33 PM
Later that day, Monica squeezed her fist tighter together before she lifted her hand and knocked on his door.
Rachel was right, she needed to try and fix things with him. And they needed to get some stuff figured out, including what they were going to tell their friends. She didn't want to keep brushing them off, telling them that she didn't know what was wrong with him.
Because she did know, and the guilt was eating her alive.
She didn't know what to do, and she didn't know how to fix things, but the current vibe between them simply could not continue.
She knew he was home. Joey was over in her apartment and had mentioned Chandler and said he'd left him over there.
She felt her heartbeat speed up as she heard him walking towards the door. When he opened it, her heart broke a little when his face fell.
She swallowed nervously and looked into his tired eyes, "Hey."
When did it become so hard? When did talking to Chandler, her best friend, get so complicated? She didn't know, but the look he was aiming at her hurt her. It looked like he hated her.
Too many seconds had passed and when she decided that he wasn't going to even say hello to her, she took in a breath, "We need to talk," she said and watched as he shifted on his feet.
He sighed, looked down at his feet, shook his head, and stuffed his hands in his dress pants pockets before he looked at her again, "I um, I don't know what there is to talk about."
Was he insane? There was so much they needed to talk about. She wanted her friend back, and the way things were now, with him avoiding her and not even speaking to her, it wasn't going to get any better.
A burst of anger shot through her at his attitude towards the situation, but whether he liked it or not, he was going to have a conversation with her. They had so many things to work through.
"Can I come in or do you want to do this out here?" She asked sharply.
He lifted his eyebrows in surprise but didn't say anything as he turned and walked back into his apartment. She was glad he didn't slam the door in her face, at least.
She let out a breath she'd been holding in and walked in slowly, then turned and shut his door.
They were alone again. That hadn't happened since the night he got home, and she was sure he wanted it that way.
He sat in his recliner as she moved to the bar stools and pulled one of them out so that she could sit on it.
She sighed and took a deep breath, "Look, I know you're upset with me," she started, "and I want to fix it. I want to fix us."
Chandler sighed, "I don't know what to say, Monica," he said honestly.
"Can we just, maybe, forget about our night together and go back to being me and you?" She asked.
He moved his eyes from her, "I don't think it's that easy."
"We've been friends for so long," she replied, shaking her head in disbelief, "you're going to let one night of sex ruin us?" He scoffed and shook his head, still not looking at her, "So, what? You're not going to hang out with me anymore? Anytime I'm around you're going to stay away?"
"It wasn't just about the sex to me," Chandler finally said, then met her eyes, "I told you that I wanted more. A relationship."
Monica shook her head back at him, "I just want my friend back," she pleaded, "how can I get us back?"
He looked down at the floor and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, "I don't know," he whispered, shaking his head.
She stood from the stool and squatted down in front of him so that she could look at his face. She balanced herself with her hands on either side of him, "Tell me how to fix it."
"I don't know," he said again, because it was the truth. He finally pulled his head up and met her eyes. His heartrate sped up at her close proximity to him. He pressed his lips together so that he wouldn't lean forward and kiss her, because it would be so easy as close as she was. Then he'd pull her up into his lap and put his lips on her neck, her shoulders, her chest….
He shook his head to shake those thoughts out of it and stood from the chair to move away from her.
She sighed and stood to her full form, placing her hands on her hips, "I didn't know that sleeping with you would be such a..." she sighed, searching her mind for the correct word, "…mistake."
Chandler snapped his head up to look at her, "A mistake?" He clarified, not believing that she just said that. He felt his already broken heart sink to the floor. He asked her the next morning if she thought what they did was a mistake, and she told him that it wasn't.
Now it was?
He didn't know if he could do this. Having a conversation with her was proving to be nearly impossible.
Monica shook her head at him quickly, "No, no, not like that," she said, "I meant that it was a mistake because now you're not, you won't, talk to me. We've always had each other to talk to, always. I didn't want to ruin our friendship, and you promised me the next morning that it wouldn't. And look at us, look at you. You are avoiding me like the plague."
"I told you that when I thought we were on the same page," he said through his teeth.
She furrowed her eyebrows together, "The same page?"
"Yes!" He yelled.
She was taken aback. He rarely raised his voice in anger, particularly with women, "Chandler…" she said, much softer.
He held his hand up, took a deep breath, and tried to calm down so he wouldn't yell at her. As angry as he was, as heartbroken as he felt, he didn't want to yell. His grandmother taught him not to raise his voice at women, and it was always in the back of his mind.
"I thought there was something between us, and I thought you felt it too." His eyes met hers, and she tensed up, her hands tightening around her arms. His blue eyes seemed sad, tired, and hurt. It broke her heart again. He took in another deep breath and continued, "But, like always, I'm wrong." He looked down at the floor, shaking his head at himself, "I'm always wrong when it comes to this."
She sighed, shook her head, and uncrossed her arms when she took a step towards him. He stepped back though, and she stopped. She stuck her hands in her pockets instead, "Chandler," she started, "I went downstairs that night to try and take some of your hurt away. I knew you were hurting, and I didn't like that. My intentions were to make sure you were okay."
"I remember the night fine, trust me," he said, "I don't need the play-by-play."
She rolled her eyes, ignored him and continued, "But we were drinking, and we got kind of swept up in the moment and I think, maybe we took it too far."
He assumed she didn't know, but her words were stabbing him in the chest repeatedly, like thousands of tiny, but very sharp, needles. He needed her to go. He was trying to keep his distance and she was too close to him now.
He lifted his hand and to rub his eyes with his forefinger and thumb, "Yeah, look, I don't want to talk about this anymore," he said with a groan.
"What?" She shook her head, "No, I'm not leaving. I don't want to ruin our friendship with this! Come on, talk to me so we can start to get back to normal. I want normal."
He chuckled very softly, "Normal, huh? Wow, that seems like…" He sighed and shook his head, "…a fantasy now."
"Chandler, I'm trying to talk this out with you," she said, her voice rising with frustration, "can we please…"
He looked at her and shook his head, "No, I don't want to talk," he interrupted, "I've already heard everything you had to say. Sleeping with me was a mistake, you're not interested in a relationship with me, and you love Richard. Doesn't that cover it?"
"God Chandler, stop!"
He looked at her then, his eyes full of hurt and disappointment.
She sighed and felt tears burn the back of her eyes, "Why can't we get past this?" He shut his eyes and held them closed, taking in and letting out a deep breath, "We have to get past this, right? I mean…" she sniffed, "…you are one of my best friends," she said brokenly.
"Mon, I can't…"
"What are we going to tell the others?" She interrupted, "They know something is wrong, and I can't keep telling them that I don't know. Rachel knows something happened."
"I don't know," he said, because he didn't, "I don't really want to deal with questions about us," he told her.
"We can get past this," she said again, but he stubbornly shook his head, "Damn it, Chandler, why?!" She asked loudly.
She wasn't going to let this go. She was going to continue to beat him down until there was nothing left, he knew she would. She didn't want to lose what they had, their friendship, and he understood that.
But he didn't see how they could get back. And she didn't even know that he was in love with her, either. She didn't know that she was all he thought about, night and day.
Should he tell her? He didn't know what good it would do, but maybe she'd at least keep her distance for a while, and he wouldn't have to see her. Maybe she would understand that he couldn't just be her friend, not like they used to.
"I don't think telling you…" he stopped when the door flew open and revealed an over-the-top happy Ross, his hand holding Emily's behind him.
Chandler looked at the back of Monica's head as she turned to her brother. He shut his eyes as Ross's excitement took over the entire room.
"Guys, where's everybody?" He said, his voice loud and a smile all over his face.
Monica sighed, "Across the hall," she said, hoping that would get rid of her older brother, but he just waved at them to follow him.
"Come over, I want to tell everybody something!"
Emily smiled and laughed behind him, covering her mouth with her hand.
"Ross, not now, okay?" She gestured to herself and Chandler, "We're in the middle of a conversation," she said, rolling her eyes a little.
"Well can't your conversation wait?" Ross asked, his face turning from excited to annoyed, "Come on Mon, this is big!"
Monica sighed and turned back to Chandler, who just shook his head and walked around the chair and past her.
She followed the three people back into her apartment. She sat on the couch next to Phoebe, more annoyed than excited to hear about whatever Ross was about to tell them.
Chandler was about to tell her something. She could see it in his face.
She hated that she hurt him. And while she still didn't understand why he thought he wanted a relationship with her, she didn't like that he seemed to be heartbroken.
She didn't like that he didn't want to talk to her or even be around her.
She wondered where he was behind her. He didn't come to sit in the living room, he stayed in the kitchen, probably at the table with Joey.
A chill ran through her, and her hair stood up on the back of her neck. He was looking at her, she could feel it.
She crossed her arms and legs, earning a look from Phoebe, "You okay?" She asked, her eyebrows raised.
Monica smiled a little and placed a hand on her friend's pregnant belly, "Yeah, fine Pheebs. Are you okay?"
Phoebe gave her a look that conveyed again that she was tired of being pregnant. Monica winced and rubbed her belly, "I know honey. It'll be over soon."
"Okay, guys," Ross said, pulling Emily up next to him. He looked at her, smiled, and put his hand on top of hers, "We've um," he smiled at her again, "we've decided to get married!"
Monica swallowed and looked over at Phoebe, who was already looking back at her. She braved a look at Rachel, who, along with everybody else, was flabbergasted.
Ross looked between his ex-girlfriend and his other friends, waiting on a response.
"Wow," Phoebe finally broke the silence, her arms open and her palms flat, "that's great," she said with a chuckle, "but don't you think it's kind of fast?"
Ross and Emily looked at each other, then back at her, "Well, maybe," Emily said with a smile, "but we love each other so much and I don't want to be without him, in another country when we can get married and be together all the time."
She grinned at them and then wrapped an arm around Ross.
There was a continued stunned silence through the room.
Monica let out a breath, "Well, I'm thrilled!" She tried to seem happy for her brother, and hoped it sounded genuine, "Congratulations!" She said and stood to hug them. Phoebe did too, and Rachel sent a panicked look towards Chandler and Joey, who sat in silence in the kitchen.
Chandler watched as Ross hugged Monica, then moved over to Phoebe.
"I think Ross has lost his mind," Joey said quietly.
Chandler nodded, staring in disbelief, "Uh, yeah. Probably so."
"He barely knows her," Joey continued.
Chandler slowly nodded again, "Very true," he agreed.
That wasn't the problem with his and Monica's relationship, Chandler thought. He knew her very well. Better than he knew himself.
The problem was that she didn't want him, other than being his friend. She wanted Richard: with his sophisticated, smart, too tall self. He watched her as she smiled brightly and looked up at Ross, then Emily.
He shut his eyes. He'd missed that smile, those eyes.
He supposed he would always miss those things about her now. He knew seeing her would be rare now, and that thought made his gut churn.
He didn't open his eyes again until Joey hit him on the arm, "You alright?"
Chandler turned to him, "Yeah, fine Joe," he replied.
Joey lifted his eyebrows, then glanced over at Monica, then back over at Chandler, "Did you hear me?"
Chandler couldn't tell him what he said even if he had a gun to his head, "Uh, no, sorry. What did you say?"
Joey rolled his eyes. He was repeating a lot of things to his roommate these days, because Chandler seemed to be in another world. Joey knew it was because Chandler hadn't told Monica that he loved her, and he was struggling to get it off of his mind. Joey sighed and clamped a hand down on Chandler's shoulder, "I asked you if you saw the awkward hug Rachel gave them."
Chandler didn't see the hug but felt as if he could picture it. He may not know a lot of things, but he knew that Ross still loved Rachel and Rachel still loved Ross. And if Ross was marrying another woman to pretend that he didn't, it wasn't going to last very long.
"Guys, come here!" Ross said, waving them over. Joey let go of Chandler and stood up. Chandler did too, and they each gave Ross and Emily a hug.
Ross put his arms around as many of them as he could, "Oh, thank you, guys!" He said, squeezing them together.
God, her perfume invaded his sense of smell, washing over him in a wave. He shut his eyes again.
Ross finally let them go and they spread apart some. Emily looked up and smiled, "Maybe we should go out and celebrate!" She suggested, a bright, happy smile on her face.
"Yeah, great idea honey! Let's go!" Ross beamed, "Oh my god, you guys, I'm so happy. I've got my fiancée and my friends," he sighed and grabbed them all again.
Chandler pulled away and took a step back, which made the rest of them move away too. His friends were not making the task of keeping his distance from Monica any easier, but why would they?
The rest of them agreed and discussed restaurant celebration ideas. Chandler didn't add his input, because honestly, he didn't want to go. He wanted to get back in his apartment and hide, just like he'd been doing a lot lately. Once a decision had been made, they all added light jackets, and headed towards the door.
Chandler walked behind Joey, who had gone across the hall and got his own jacket and Chandler's for him. Just as Chandler's hand went through the sleeve of his jacket, Monica grabbed it to stop him.
He looked at her, confused, "Wait," she said softly. He gently pulled his hand away from her but stopped walking. He stuck his hands in his pockets and stood awkwardly next to the door.
Joey passed them and turned back to them, confused, "You guys coming?" He asked, glancing over at Chandler.
Monica pressed her lips together and nodded at their Italian friend, "Joe, can you please let them know that we'll be a little late?"
Joey looked between them, an eyebrow raised, "Everything okay?"
Chandler almost laughed at his roommate. Everything was not okay. He wanted to go back in time and see if he could undo what they'd done, just remain her friend with a slight crush. That would be better than this.
"Yes," Monica finally answered, "we just need to finish our conversation from earlier," she said to him, "we'll grab a cab and be there in a few minutes, okay?"
Joey shot Chandler another look before he turned back to Monica and nodded. The purple door closed, and then they were alone, again.
Chandler crossed his arms and leaned back against the counter. The deafening silence washed over them, the only sounds in the room were the quiet hum of the refrigerator and the distant ticking of a wall clock.
Monica braved a look at his face, then sighed, "Chandler, please, talk to me," she whispered, "I can't stand this," she added.
He sighed, "I just think I should stay away from you for a while," he finally said, "you're in a relationship and I don't want to screw that up for you. So, I need to keep my distance."
She shook her head emphatically, "No, I don't want that!"
"Then what in the hell do you want from me, Monica?" He asked sharply.
"I want us back, Chandler! God, I thought I've made that clear!" She took a step towards him as she fought tears that burned her eyes again, "I want you over here for breakfast in the mornings, I want you over here for movie night, I want dinners with you, game night, grill outs, parties, all of it. I want our friendship to remain intact!" She let out a shaky breath, "Don't you want that?"
He was quiet for a long time before he answered, "I just don't think I can do that anymore, "he ran a hand over his face, "not right now, anyway."
"What?" She said, her voice high as a tear ran down her face.
He sighed and moved his eyes from hers. He didn't like to see her upset; he didn't like that he was the one that upset her. "Monica, please, can we just, drop this?"
She felt anger rise within her, "No, tell me why you are saying this to me! Why can't we be friends? I'm not going to allow you to push me away because you can't get over the fact that we slept together!"
He shook his head and kept his voice calm and low, "I told you already that it wasn't all about the sex."
"I can't believe this is happening," she turned and walked around for a second, "then what is it about? What is your problem?" She stopped walking and stared at him, "Yeah, maybe I rushed into things with Richard again, but he wants a future with me, and I need that. I need stability. I don't understand why you're upset about that."
"It's not about him either," Chandler said sharply, "none of this has ever been about him."
"Then what is it about?!" Monica yelled, her frustration and anger getting the best of her, "I'm trying, here, Chandler, I'm trying to get you to talk to me! You know I don't want to lose our friendship, and I am trying to…"
His frustration and aggravation were growing as she continued to push him, "Monica, stop, okay?"
"What? No! I'm not going to stop. Tell me why…"
"God damn it, I'm in love with you!" He finally yelled, interrupting her. He let out a breath and stared at her for a moment, but then shut his eyes, not wanting to see the confusion and shocked look on her face anymore.
He took several deep breaths, his heart breaking more at her silence. He swallowed and finally made himself look at her, "I know that you love Richard," he started, his heart hammering in his chest, "I know that you're with him. I also know that having sex with me meant nothing to you, but it did to me." He refused to let the tears that burned the back of his eyes come to the surface. He was not going to cry in front of her, "I feel like I took advantage of you, of your friendship and loyalty to me, and I'm sorry about that, but I…" he trailed off, not sure what else to say.
"Chandler…." She started, but he interrupted her.
"No, just…" he sighed, the pain he felt in his heart coming to the surface, "I need to keep my distance, I need to be away from you for a while, so, please, Mon, please let me do that. I don't want to screw things up for you, worse than I already have."
Monica stared at him, her stomach was in a knot, and she felt as if she was going to be sick, "You haven't screwed things up for me," she whispered, her voice breaking.
He nodded, "Yes, I did," he said, "I want you to be happy, and if your happiness is with Richard, then you be with him. But I can't…" he sighed, shaking his head, "I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to hang out with you without…" he paused and looked away from her.
"Without what?" She asked him, shaking her head in disbelief.
After their night together, he'd let himself draw up a picture of what a life together could be like for them. He pictured kissing her to shut her up when she was on one of her rants, or walking by her and touching her hand, placing his arm around her when they walked next to each other, making sweet, passionate love to her over and over again, kissing her awake in the mornings, dancing with her in the middle of the night…
It was all just a dream, a stupid fantasy.
Of course it was.
"Chandler?" She prompted when he hadn't answered.
"I just need time," he mumbled again, "I don't think I can be around you, sit next you, laugh with you without wanting you," he finally said.
Monica swallowed and shut her eyes. She knew that a large part of her wanted him too. But it was just sexual feelings, she'd told herself that a million times.
And she was with Richard now.
She took a few steps towards him and reached for his hand, surprised that he didn't pull away, "I don't want to lose you," she said brokenly.
He shook his head and looked into her tear-filled eyes. He needed to ask her, for his own sanity. He needed to understand that she didn't feel an ounce of what he thought was mutual between them.
He took in a shaky breath, "You didn't feel…" he met her eyes for just a second, then shook his head again, "…anything, did you?" He asked in a quiet whisper, because he simply couldn't believe that was her reality.
God, she was so screwed up. If she told him that yes, she felt the spark he was talking about, or if she told him about the want that shot through her, he'd surely lean forward right now and kiss her again, and it would satisfy the ache deep within her that she hadn't figured out how to get past yet.
But she couldn't. She couldn't make out with him like she desperately wanted to. She had Richard. Richard, Richard, Richard.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, squeezed his hand, and took in a breath, "No," she lied, but if she didn't pair it with a shake of her head, he wouldn't have heard the answer. Her heart broke into a million pieces when she saw the look in his eyes, "I'm so sorry," she added brokenly.
He nodded and looked away from her, then dropped her hand, "Yeah, um, I'm gonna…" he trailed off, and cleared his throat, "…you should go be with your friends," he said brokenly, then headed out of her door and into the hall.
"No, wait," Monica said, following him, desperate to stop him.
He stopped in the hallway and turned back to her, "Tell Ross and Emily congratulations for me," he said, "you can uh, tell them I wasn't feeling well if you want."
"Chandler, stop this, please," she pleaded, more tears rolling down her face now.
"No, Monica, I can't do this," he said again, putting his hand up to stop her from moving any closer, "please, just give me some space." She shook her head again, but he nodded instead, "I really need you to do that for me, okay?" He shut his eyes when his voice broke.
"You're my best friend," she said brokenly.
He shook his head and ran a hand over his face, "I need you to go," he said simply.
"Chandler…"
"Go, please." He said again, then stared at her for just another second, "Please," he said again, and went into his apartment, shutting and locking the door in front of her.
Her best friend, her rock, her person was on the other side of the door now, avoiding her again. She'd wanted nothing more than to talk to him, make sure that their friendship was still intact, get past this weirdness between them.
But now, he told her that he loved her.
He told her to stay away.
She loved him too, she did. But she couldn't…
She put her hand against his apartment door, closing her fist for a second.
And she had so many questions for him, but she didn't think she could get anything else out of him, at least not tonight. Not this week.
Chandler ran a hand over his face as he sank to the floor, his back against his apartment door. That didn't go as planned, but nothing had since they got home.
Nothing had gone as planned.