Day 56

Monica lifted her hand and knocked on the door of the hotel room after spraying breath spray in her mouth. She gripped her purse tighter and smiled with anticipation of the look of surprise that was going to be on his face.

"Hey Wendy, thanks…" He stopped when he looked and saw who was actually at his door, "Mon!" He said, a smile on his face, "You're here!"

She nodded slowly, all of her excitement from before nearly gone in a flash, "Hey," she said, trying to find her voice.

He stepped up to her and kissed her, "Come in," he took her hand and pulled on it, urging her through the door. She walked inside his hotel room, looking around for any sign of what she now thought he was up to while she was in New York.

Chandler stepped into the hall and got her suitcase, then shut the door and moved back over to her, "What a wonderful surprise, I'm so glad you're here," he said and tried to kiss her, but she leaned back and put her hand on his chest. Confused, he backed up and looked at her, "What's wrong?"

"Who's Wendy?" She asked, then crossed her arms.

"What?" He asked, turning his head.

She rolled her eyes, "You were expecting Wendy when you opened the door," she said, her voice sharp.

He sighed, trying to hide his annoyance. "She's a coworker," he replied matter-of-factly, "she's going to drop some work off for me that I left."

"The same one that needs your help all the time?"

"Mon, honey…"

"That's her, right?"

He tilted his head a bit, "It's a new system for her and she's trying to learn it," he said, "she has needed me to show her some things that are different."

"And trying to weasel her way between us," she replied, taking a step back from him.

"What? No, she's not."

"So she was coming to your hotel room for what possible reason, Chandler?"

"To drop off paperwork that I intended to bring back here with me, but I left it on my desk."

"Isn't your assistant's job to assist you with things like that?"

"Jolene had to take one of her cats to the vet," he responded easily, "Wendy called me and offered to bring them."

"I bet she did," Monica said sharply.

He narrowed his eyes at her mood, "She said it's on her way home, and she didn't mind dropping them by."

"To your hotel room," Monica unnecessarily pointed out again.

"What's with you?" Chandler asked, his hands on his hips, but before she could answer, there was a knock on the door. He kept her gaze for another second before he turned and stepped over to it.

"Hey," she said, a giant smile on her face as she passed the stacks of paper to him.

"Hey Wendy," Chandler said, "thanks for dropping these by."

"It was my pleasure," she replied, and Monica lifted her eyebrows at the stranger's smooth, flirty voice.

Chandler stepped out of the way and opened the door wider, "Wendy, this is my wife, Monica," he said.

Wendy's face changed to surprise, "Oh," she said, then stepped by Chandler and closer to Monica. She held out her petite hand and put it out for Monica to shake, "Nice to meet you."

"You too," Monica said softly, shaking the woman's hand.

"Chandler," Wendy said, turning to look at him, "she's even more beautiful in person."

He smiled and nodded as he put the paperwork on the small table near the door, "Yeah she is," he agreed, turning back to the two women.

Monica smiled, "Thank you."

"What do you do for a living, Monica?"

She took a moment to find her voice, "I'm a chef," she said, then lifted her hand to scratch her arm.

"Not just a chef," Chandler cut in, stepping over to her and wrapping his arm just above her waist, "a chef at one of the most prestigious restaurants in New York. It has four stars and stays completely booked."

"Wow, that's awesome!" Wendy replied brightly, "Well, your husband here has been a huge help to me in learning this system. I don't know what I would do without him."

Monica's grip tightened on her arm and she felt her skin prickle, "Yeah, he's great."

"Alright, well I suppose you two want to spend some time together, and you don't need me here taking up your time, so, I'm going to go." Wendy walked to the door again, pausing after she opened it and turned back to them, "It was nice to meet you Monica, and Chandler, I'll see you bright and early Monday morning."

She stepped through the door again, "Yeah, thanks Wendy," he said, waving a little as she walked down the hall.

Chandler shut the door again and locked it, then turned back to her. He could tell by the look on her face that she wasn't thrilled.

"Mon…"

She held up her hand to stop him, "You're kidding me, right?"

He held his hands open and stared at her, "What?"

"What is so important that it couldn't have waited until Monday?"

He let his arms fall to his sides, "I need to go over the numbers for Monday's big staff meeting. I left them on my desk and Wendy called me and reminded me that I wanted to take them home. I was going to go get them, but she said the hotel was on her way home and she would drop them off."

Monica scoffed and looked away, then met his eyes, "So you invited that woman to your hotel room, late at night?"

He tilted his head and shook it in disbelief, "That's what you're upset about?"

She narrowed her eyes, "Why would I be upset? A beautiful woman comes to your hotel room late at night to drop off paperwork while I'm thousands of miles away?"

"Like you go out with your coworkers and the funniest guy you know when I'm not around?" He fired back, his eyes narrowed.

She gritted her teeth together, "This again?"

"You knew I was coming home and you were out until all hours of the morning with your coworkers," he said loudly, "how in the hell am I supposed to feel about that?"

"I needed to go out and have a good time for a night because all of the other nights are spent in an empty apartment sitting around waiting for you to call."

He shook his head, "You think you've got it bad? I have no one here, Monica. I don't know anybody in this stupid city, I don't do anything but go to work and come back here and wait for your call!"

"You've got Wendy!" She yelled back, her temper at the boiling point.

"Stop it," He said, his teeth gritted together, "nothing is going on with Wendy."

"Yeah, well, I'm not convinced," she said, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes.

"That's ridiculous," He said back to her, shaking his head, his voice much softer. He ran a hand over his face, then took in a deep breath to try and calm himself down.

"It's very inappropriate for her to offer to come to your hotel room, and it's even more inappropriate for you to agree to it," Monica finally said, breaking the silence between them.

After several long moments, he sighed, scratched his head, and swallowed hard, "You're right," he conceded, nodding at her. She lifted her head to meet his eyes as he continued, "I wouldn't like it if you had someone coming over to our apartment late at night either."

"I don't trust her."

Chandler pressed his lips together and took a step toward her, "Fair enough," he sighed, "you do trust me, though, right?"

"Of course I do," she said, swallowing hard. He put his hands on his hips, "I'm miserable without you here," he said, much softer. "but I know how happy you are."

She gaped at him, "Is that what you think?"

He nodded, "Yeah, I can see it in your face, I hear it in your voice. You love your new job." He turned around and shook his head, his mind going in a hundred different directions.

He should quit. He should turn around, grab his wife, get on a plane and go back to New York where he belonged. And be with her.

But this job now paid him money, a lot of it. And he was putting so much away for their future that they wanted: a house in the suburbs, some kids.

"I do," she broke the silence and he turned his head, "But I don't love that I don't get to see you every day."

He nodded, clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, and sighed again. He turned back to face her, no solution at all found in his head.

"This is so hard," he whispered, more to himself than to her.

She shut her eyes and nodded again. He was right, this long-distance thing was nearly impossible.

She lifted her head, stepped up to him, and then wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace.

"I don't want to fight with you anymore," she whispered, fighting tears that were stinging her eyes.

He backed up from her arms so he could cup her face, "I miss you," he said, then leaned his forehead against hers, "I miss you every single second of every day."

She nodded, "I miss you, too," she replied, and a tear escaped her eye and rolled down her face.

"Oh, baby," he murmured, then pulled her lips up to his. He kissed her slowly, passionately, his tongue gliding against hers. He began to move her toward the area with the bed behind them as she pulled on his tie to loosen it.

Monica lay in his arms after they made love, twice, and she felt so comfortable and safe. She swallowed hard and turned her head to look up at him. She gazed at him for a few long seconds, into those beautiful blue eyes that she had yet to figure out how not to get lost in. She squeezed the hand she held in hers, their fingers intertwined together, "I'll quit," she said, her heart thumping in her chest.

He looked down at her and met her gaze in surprise, "What?"

"I'll come work in Tulsa," she whispered, her voice shaking.

But he shook his head, let go of her hand, and cupped her face, "No. I'm not going to let you do that."

"Honey…"

He shook his head again, "No," he repeated, "you love your job. And you've waited so long and worked hard to get to where you are now. I would be miserable if I knew you gave it up."

She blinked a few times and sighed, "Then what are we going to do?" She asked.

"Maybe I should quit," he offered, but she shook her head, which he expected, "then I don't know," he replied.

"We're getting through this," she said, "it hasn't been easy for either of us, but we are getting through it."

He gripped her hand tighter and leaned his head down the top of her head, "I don't know if I can do it much longer," he admitted.

She sniffed and shifted so that she was facing him fully, her naked body pressed against his, "You can," she said, "I'll come down here more and you come home more and we'll get through this." She sounded so positive about what she was saying, but he didn't know if he possessed that same enthusiasm about their arrangement anymore. She sensed his hesitation, so she moved her hand to his chest and kissed his chin, "We can do this," she said, mimicking his words from their first night apart.

"Yeah," he said, but she didn't think that was all he had to say.

"Talk to me," she said, "tell me what's on your mind."

He slid his hand down her spine but stayed quiet. She played with his chest hair with one hand and rested her head on the other as she gazed up at him, "I think we need to do a better job of trusting each other," he finally said.

She nodded, "That's fair."

He looked down at her, "All I could picture was that Jeffrey guy touching your arm, or your leg, or your hair," he shook his head, "and I didn't like it. I think that's part of the reason I was so mad about you being out that night. And why I keep bringing it up."

She pulled herself up to look directly into his eyes, "He didn't touch me," she said and shook her head, "I wouldn't have let that happen." She dragged a finger down his face, "You believe me, don't you?"

He nodded, "Of course I do," he said softly.

"I didn't like that supermodel bringing anything to your hotel room late at night," she said, looking away for a moment before meeting his eyes, "she is beautiful, and I saw how she looked at you, and I didn't like it."

He slowly shook his head, "Nothing would have happened," he said softly, "she's married."

"So are you," Monica replied, a bit of a sharp tone in her voice.

He tried not to smile, but failed miserably, "I know that."

She backed up more from him and stared at him, "Why is that funny?"

"It's not."

"You're smiling."

He brushed her hair with his fingers, "I'm smiling because you think that another woman, any other woman, stands a chance."

"What?" She asked sharply.

He shook his head, "Not that I want to anyway, but I would never jeopardize what I have with you," he said, his voice low, "I don't care who it is or what she looks like, she isn't you." Her face softened dramatically and she moved closer to him again, "I hit the wife jackpot when I tricked you into marrying me," he continued, "and I'm not going to screw it up."

She smiled a little and pressed a kiss to his chest as she thought about how she also hit the spouse jackpot when she married him, "I love you," she said, "and I trust you."

"But…" he prompted, sensing that she had more to say.

"Please, don't invite your supermodel coworkers to your hotel room, okay?"

He nodded slowly, "Okay," he responded, thinking again about how much it didn't matter that Wendy was coming by to drop off work for him, but he understood her point.

"Another round?" She asked, sliding her hand down his chest suggestively.

"Hmm," he said, wrapping his arms around her and flipping her to her back. She gasped as he hovered above her, his lips barely touching hers, "I think the rule is at least seven times when we're not in New York, right?"

She giggled, "Only if you're up for the challenge."

He smirked at her, grabbed her hand, and dragged it down to his bottom half, "I'm up for it."