Listen to Your Heart - Chapter Five
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"You're married! I can't believe you didn't tell me that, either!" Monica huffed, shocked. Even though less than ten minutes ago she'd managed to convince herself that Chandler was married to Phoebe, there was a small part of her that knew she was being ridiculous and looking for someone to blame. Phoebe was an easy target. When Chandler had pointed out how ridiculous she was being, she'd calmed considerably, and worse, had allowed herself to hope that there was a chance for 'them.' Now that hope was being cruelly torn away, once again.
"How many more huge secrets do you have?! How could we have talked for four damn hours last week without you mentioning any of this! How can you be married?! What about us?" Her face was set in a stony, completely unreadable expression, and it unsettled Chandler. Now that he was face to face with her, he was realizing how much he cared for her, and would be devastated if she flat out rejected him.
Chandler took a deep breath, trying to fight the impending sting of tears, "Look, Monica. I'm really sorry I didn't tell you any of this stuff. Really, I am. I know I've done everything to prove the opposite, but I do care about you."
Monica's expression softened marginally. "I want to believe you, Chandler. I do. But part of me can't help but wonder… are you only saying that because I found out? Would you have bothered to say anything if we hadn't bumped into one another today?"
Chandler's eyes met Monica's briefly before he lost his nerve and looked down at his hands, "I don't know. I want to say, yes, I would have, but that would have been lying. And I don't want to lie anymore. Especially to you. You deserve the truth."
Monica smiled very slightly. "Thank you. Tell me," she implored, "Where's your wife? Is she Michelle's mother? Why do you wear your ring around your neck and not your finger?"
Chandler forced a tiny smile in response to Monica's, although inside he felt a mess. His stomach was turning nervously and his mind was swirling, hardly allowing him an opportunity to focus on one thought before it moved on to the next. "If you want complete honesty, I'll give it to you, I promise. I'm done lying. I just don't feel comfortable talking about this in the middle of a crowded coffeehouse." He looked around anxiously, as if the patrons of Central Perk were secretly listening in on their conversation. "Maybe we could go back to my apartment?" he offered.
Monica smiled properly for the first time since she'd discovered his ring. "Okay," she looked at him, "but my apartment is right upstairs, we could go there, instead, if you want. It's a little closer."
"Okay," Chandler agreed, a ghost of a smile on his face; he was too nervous to smile properly, "I'd like that."
Slowly timidly, as if afraid he might refuse her, Monica offered him her hand. Looking up at her slowly, hopefully, he placed his hand in hers and allowed her to lead him upstairs.
The walk to her apartment was completed in total silence. It wasn't all that uncomfortable, especially given the strange situation. They continued to clasp one another's hands loosely the entire trip, as if allowing the other the opportunity to let go, if they wanted. Neither did.
If was only when they finally reached the forest green door of apartment number 20, that Monica finally let go of his hand to dig out her keys from her pocket.
After unlocking the door, Monica ushered Chandler into the apartment, pleased to find that it was empty. After leaving the coffeehouse Rachel had clearly retreated elsewhere. Chandler took a brief moment to look around, before complimenting her apartment, "You've got a great apartment. It's huge!"
Monica thanked him, not really in the mood for polite pleasantries. She wanted answers. She led Chandler towards the overstuffed white couch that was the centerpiece of her living room, instructing him to take a seat, before offering politely, "Would you like something to drink? I could make some coffee if you'd like?"
Chandler didn't respond, and only sat stoically in his seat, staring off into space as if he were looking into another dimension entirely. Monica couldn't help but feel a tug on her heartstrings seeing him look so miserable, and found she was more curious than ever for him to spill the situation with his wife.
The second he'd sat down, Chandler's emotions had all rushed at him at once. He sat frozen, faced with the reality that he was going to have to confront all his issues, properly, for the first time in nearly three years. The thought had sent him into a mild panic. Whenever his friends had broached the topic, a simple 'I don't want to talk about it' had always made them back off. As much as he hated their sympathetic smiles, at least they'd felt sorry enough for him to leave him to his miserable thoughts in peace. How could he explain to them the how and why of what he was feeling, when he wasn't even sure himself? He knew Monica was going to demand certain answers. He'd witnessed her fiery character during their heart to heart the previous week, and knew she'd stubbornly settle for nothing less. The thought of confronting those memories scared the hell out of him.
Monica called Chandler's name, quietly. Receiving no response, she reached towards him and softly touched his hand, stroking the back of it gently; still no response. Though she knew it was a stupid thing to be thinking about in that moment, Monica could help but think his skin was incredibly soft. She berated herself for thinking that way about a married man. He was still married, if only technically, wasn't he? Why else would he still keep his ring?
Even, more tentatively than before, Monica slid her hand up to his shoulder, gently stroking it through the thin material of his button-up shirt, in an attempt to rouse him from his obviously intense reverie. Still no response.
Glancing around her apartment, as if there may be spies planted among the books on the shelves, or hidden behind the curtains, Monica slowly dragged her hand, up across his shoulder, and neck, until she was cupping his cheek, and in doing so, turning his face gently towards her. The feel of his cheek beneath her fingers was electric, the roughness of his stubble contrasting pleasantly against the softness of her fingertips.
She almost found herself leaning towards him, though whether it was out of compassion for his current state, or a leftover sense of desperation as a result of the feelings she had developed over dinner earlier in the week, she wasn't sure. All she knew was that she'd never felt more connected to a person in her life… and all she was doing was touching his cheek. The thought scared the hell out of her. More than anything else, what terrified her was the thought that she wouldn't be allowed to feel like this again. If he was married, he was forbidden territory. She knew she wouldn't allow herself to be involved with a married man, no matter the circumstances. That would only equal hurt for both of them.
Before she could allow herself to ponder the situation any more, Chandler seemed to suddenly jolt out of his thoughts, the glazed-over look leaving his eyes. The sadness and confusion that replaced it was hardly an improvement and it sent a jolt straight to her heart. She continued to stroke his cheek, whispering words of comfort.
After a few moments Chandler seemed to regain control of himself and his emotions. Looking more than a little upset with himself, he pulled her into a friendly hug. "I'm so, sorry, Monica. I know you probably don't want an emotional, weepy basket case in your apartment. I'll just let myself, out. Thanks for trying, though," he sighed.
Monica stopped him, flinging her legs across his, so he couldn't stand up. "Look," she said firmly, "I'm not sure what's going on, here, but I intend to find out. It has something to do with your wife and daughter. So start spilling." Chandler looked hesitant.
Sensing that he wasn't about to, Monica decided to take matters into her own hands. "Did she die?" she questioned, compassionately, trying to get him to open up.
Chandler's head shot up, from where he'd been staring at his feet. Monica barely heard the whispered, "No." His head quickly dropped back down.
Monica looked at him expectantly, hoping that he'd sense her openness and willingness to help him in any way she could. Chandler could feel her eyes burning into the back of his head, and by some magnetic force more powerful than him, found his eyes drawn to hers.
Blue met blue, and Chandler could slowly but surely feel his internal wall breaking down.
Monica seemed to sense his crumbling resistance. From her position, almost on her lap, Monica wrapped her arms around him, laying her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat for a moment, before whispering, "Please, tell me what happened. Please. I want to help. Please."
Just the feel of Monica wrapped around him, brought tremendous comfort to Chandler. Fighting against his conscience, after a minute, he finally mumbled, "She left me."
Monica felt enormous hatred, for this nameless woman bubbling up in her soul. How could a woman, any woman, leave her husband and little daughter? Especially if those in question were Chandler and Michelle. They were so genuine and wonderfully weird and well, as close to perfection as Monica could imagine two people being. What woman would want to give all that up? Underneath that hatred, though, Monica was reluctant to admit, more than anything else, what she felt was relief. Relief that Chandler wasn't married now and that she was free to feel how she liked about him without feeling guilty. It was like a huge burden had been lifted off her shoulders. She fought away her smile and focused on Chandler.
Staring imploring into his eyes, she begged, "Tell me what happened."
Chandler pulled her tighter against him, wrapping his arms around her and allowing himself to take comfort in her, speaking properly for the first time since he'd tried to leave. His voice was clear and strong, but with a sad lilt to it. "God Monica, you're making this seem so easy. You have no idea how long I've been dreading this… talking about this. I've never really talked to anyone about it before," he admitted shyly.
"Your wife left you and you've never talked to anyone about it? Not even Joey?" she asked, incredulously.
Chandler shook his head. "No. I mean, they – Joey, and Phoebe, eventually – wanted me to. I always avoided the subject, because I didn't want everyone giving me those pitying looks. Well that and I didn't want to face the reality of it. How pathetic is that?"
"It's not pathetic," Monica smiled, stroking his hair maternally, "It's human. Now tell me what happened." The feel of her hand running steadily through his hair in a maternal way calmed Chandler considerably. The well of tears, that had become second nature at the thought of his destroyed marriage wasn't nearly as strong as usual.
"I don't even know where to start," he mulled sadly.
"Start wherever you want to. Tell me about the day you met her. The day you got married. The day Michelle was born." A moment later she added, hesitantly, "The day she left you." The second the words were out of her mouth, she knew by the expression on his face that was exactly where he was going to start.
She felt a surge of pride, at his ability to face his fears head on, as he began to recount his story.
Seeing that he was beginning to stare off into space as he talked, Monica hugged him tighter, placing a hand on the back of his neck, the skin on skin contact serving as a small reminder that she was here for him, willing to comfort, as well as listen.
"I remember it was a Friday," he reminisced, an almost nostalgic quality to his voice. "A warm sunny day, even for LA. I was happy; I'd just finished work and there was nothing standing between me and a weekend with my family. Michelle was 10 months old and we'd been planning to take her to the park that evening, because she was just starting to get the hang of walking…"
--"Baby, are you home?" Chandler called out, as he entered the apartment, he shared with his wife, and their daughter. He was unable to wipe the grin off his face. He had the entire weekend free to spend with the two people he loved most in the world.
Getting no response, he wandered into the bedroom he shared with his wife, then Michelle's in search of either of the two primary women in his life. Finding neither, he frowned, wondering where they could be. His wife wasn't the kind to change their plans without informing him. And they had both been looking forward to spending this weekend together, as a family.
He walked towards the phone, deciding to call Joey. If Angie hadn't told him where she was going, then she must have told Joey, who had simply forgotten to tell him. Chandler shook his head at the thought of his scatterbrained former-roommate.
Approaching the phone, he noticed the message light was blinking. More out of habit than anything else, he clicked the play button, listening absently to the robotic voice.
"Mr. or Mrs. Bing?" the answering machine rattled off, "This is Joyce Langdon from Sunnyview Daycare. Michelle is currently still with us, though according to our records, she was supposed to be picked up at 3 this afternoon. We've attempted to contact both Joey and Gloria Tribbiani, her emergency contacts, but neither have picked up. Call us as soon as possible to alert us of the situation, thanks!"
Chandler looked panicked, and quickly snatched the handset off the base, quickly punching in the daycare centre's number. Where was his wife? And why hadn't she picked up Michelle like she was supposed to?
"Hello?" the receptionist answered, lazily.
"Hello!" Chandler said quickly, zooming past pleasantries, "This is Chandler Bing. Father of Michelle Bing? Is my daughter still with you?" he asked worry creeping into his voice.
"Hold on, sir. Let me check," came the measured reply. The minute it took her to find the information seemed like an eternity, serving only to intensify Chandler's panic for both his wife and daughter. At least Michelle would be happy and unlikely to notice the time, but Angie-
His thoughts were interrupted as the receptionist returned to the line. "Hello? Mr. Bing? Our records show that a Mr. Joey Tribbiani, picked up Michelle 45 minutes ago, after we sent out several calls to her emergency contacts, when Mrs. Bing failed to pick her up at the designated time." Chandler breathed a sigh of relief. Michelle was in good hands. But that still didn't explain where his wife was.
Needing to check that Joey really did have his daughter, and figuring that he would also be his best bet for answers, Chandler quickly dialed the digits he knew from memory.
"Hey Joe!" Chandler spouted, as soon as Joey answered his cell. "What's going on? Where are you? Is Michelle with you? Where's Angie?" he said, his questions all running together in his desperation for answers.
"Chandler," Joey said seriously, his grave, choked voice immediately alerting Chandler that something was wrong. Joey was an unusually upbeat person, to find him this upset was extremely unusual. "Michelle's fine, she's here with me. But I have something to tell you. Maybe you should sit down for this."
"Joey," Chandler demanded, "don't beat around the bush. Tell me what's going on! I come home to an empty apartment and a message telling me my daughter was never picked up from daycare! I call the daycare and find out she's with you! I want to know what's going on! Is Angie hurt?"
"She's gone, Chandler."
Chandler felt his blood run cold, and was quick to counter, "What do you mean 'gone'? I saw her this morning!"
"She left," Joey explained quietly, "She called Ma and Pa an hour ago and told them that she's gone off to Chicago, and that we shouldn't follow her. She said she couldn't stay here any longer. She felt suffocated."
"She wouldn't do that! Tell me that this is a cruel joke?" Chandler begged, desperate for an explanation.
"I'm so sorry, buddy. Look, didn't she leave a note, or something?" Chandler looked around desperately. Nothing but Michelle's doodles pinned to the fridge. Nothing on the table or counters.
He raced to the bedroom, surely she had to have left him something. She wouldn't leave without saying goodbye.
Nothing on the nightstand or the bed, either.
It finally hit him that his wife had left him and his baby daughter, with not even a note to say good bye. His eyes stung with tears, and the phone slipped from his hand, as he crumpled to the floor of his bedroom.
"I sobbed harder than Michelle, for the entire week after she left," Chandler admitted quietly. "You know there's a problem when your 10-month-old has to comfort you."
"I'm sorry you had to go through that," Monica said, cuddling him close to her. 'What a bitch!' she thought, 'who leaves their baby and husband without even saying goodbye!?' Rephrasing her thoughts, worried her choice of language might upset him she stated cautiously, "I can't believe that that woman didn't even say goodbye! She seriously never called or anything?"
Chandler looked downcast, but answered earnestly, "No nothing. I haven't heard from her since the morning she left. Not even a birthday card for Michelle. Can you believe that? Not even acknowledging her own daughter? Michelle's the one who's going to suffer the most here, not having a mother."
Monica shook her head violently. She stared directly into Chandler's eyes, "You and Michelle both deserved better than that. Michelle doesn't need a mother who could do that to her in the first place," she stated fiercely.
Chandler shrugged. "For the first year she was gone, I didn't even care what she'd done. I just wanted her back so badly. I knew I could forgive her if she'd just come back…" he trailed off wistfully.
"And now?" Monica asked hesitantly.
"I don't know. I just don't know. I want to forgive her, because she's Michelle's mother and I loved her once. But, at the same time, I don't know if I can forgive her for just walking out and not making an effort to contact us in nearly 3 years. If she cared about us that little… why should we care about her?"
Monica nodded and stroked his hair, "Hey… you said you were living in LA… how'd you end up back in New York?" When his eyes clouded over, and she heard him sniffle, Monica wondered if she had asked the wrong question.
"It's a bit of a long story," Chandler admitted.
Monica looked at him soothingly, "I have time. I was serious when I said I want to hear everything. I want you to be able to talk to me," she paused, "Do you know how unbelievably special it makes me feel to think that I'm the first one you've shared this with? I mean, we hardly know one another, but here you are spilling your life story to me!"
"I know," his voice briefly took on a teasing lilt, "Joe and Pheebs are gonna be so jealous. They've been trying to get me to do this for years," his voice returned to the slightly sad, serious tone it had before, admitting, "You swoop in like magic, and everything's just pouring out. It's so easy. Like I said in the cab that night," he mentioned, briefly wondering if he should bring up the location where he'd first shot her down, and risk ruining the mood they'd managed to cultivate, "I feel like I can tell you anything."
"You can. Tell me about leaving LA," she said, squeezing his hand, "I don't care how long the story is."
He nodded. "It all started when I received a package in the mail…"
--A sharp knock at his apartment door called Chandler's attention away from where he'd been playing with blocks with his 18-month-old daughter on his living room floor. Leaving Michelle to the brightly coloured blocks, he stood up, and headed for the door, wondering who it could be. The only visitors he usually entertained were Joey and his parents, and they were comfortable enough to just walk straight in without knocking. He briefly wondered if it may be Angie returning. He felt his heart rate speed up, and his stomach twist as he did the same to the doorknob. What would he say to her?
He swung open the door to reveal a short balding man, in a postal worker's uniform, holding a large manila envelope. The man nodded shortly, asking, "Chandler Bing?"
Chandler nodded and managed a choked, "Yes."
The man smiled at him curtly, "I'm here to serve you legal documents." Chandler looked confused. Legal documents? He couldn't remember getting into any trouble with the law.
Shrugging, he signed next to the X's the man indicated on the clipboard he held. He'd find out soon enough.
The man thanked him politely and handed him the package, before retreating down the hallway.
Chandler looked at the package curiously as he shut the door behind him. Checking quickly to make sure Michelle was still playing contentedly with her blocks, he turned to sit at the kitchen table, and ripped the package open.
Squinting at the papers inside, trying to determine what they were for, Chandler felt his blood run cold, as he realized what they were. They slipped from his hands, fluttering messily to the floor.
Divorce papers.
Even though Chandler had known his marriage was all but over, this was not something he'd been expecting. He knew it was ridiculous, and would never tell anyone, but he still clung to the secret hope that Angie would return one day, and tell him she'd made a huge mistake, and that they could fix their marriage.
He would not cry, he would not cry, he would not cry. Maybe if he repeated it enough, he would believe it? Feeling suddenly angry at Angie for making him feel this way he pounded a fist on the wooden kitchen table. How could she do this to him? Didn't she know they were supposed to be soulmates?
Hearing the banging noise, Michelle glanced up. Seeing the tear tracks on her father's face, she asked, "Da sad? Hug?"
Chandler shook his head and quickly wiped the tears from his face. He gave her the most genuine smile he could muster, before lying, "No, baby, I have my Mishi, why would I be sad?" He tickled her foot and she giggled, squirming in his arms. "I think it's your bedtime, Mishi," he explained, as he carried her to her room to get her ready for bed.
Michelle looked upset, "No! Missy no tired!" A brief smile flitted across Chandler's face at her mispronunciation of her name. A second later, Michelle yawned, cuddling against her father sleepily. Chandler knew, despite her arguments, she was too tired to put up much of a fight.
Twenty minutes later, Michelle was tucked in bed, clutching a stuffed turtle her mother had given her. It was likely that stupid stuffed turtle was the last thing her mother would ever give her, Chandler thought bitterly.
Watching his daughter sleep, he felt a sudden rush of hate for Angie. How could she do this to them? They were doing okay, he supposed. Well Michelle was. He was a wreck, if he admitted the truth to himself. Glancing one last time at Michelle, he made a quick decision, and deciding to act on it before he changed his mind, he slipped out of her room, making sure to flip on her nightlight before he left.
He stalked over to the phone – the very same phone that Joey had told him Angie had left him on, he thought angrily – and quickly punched in Joey's number.
"Joe?" he asked, as soon as his best friend answered, "I've made a decision."
Joey sounded perplexed. "What kind of decision?"
Chandler took a deep breath, his voice rushed, as he admitted, "I'm leaving LA. I can't stay here any more. It's stifling. This apartment, this whole goddamn city reminds me of Angie and I can't stand it anymore. I'm going back to New York."
Joey sounded more confused than before, "What brought this on? Are you feeling okay?"
Slightly irritated, Chandler snapped. "I'm fucking fabulous. My wife just sent me divorce papers. The pieces of my life are all just falling into place," he spouted sarcastically, adding seriously a second later, "I just can't stay anymore. There's no reason left to hope she might ever come back. I need to get away and start fresh."
"You're right," Joey admitted. After a pause, he added, "But, if you're leaving, I'm coming, too."
Chandler was shocked, "What! Joey! I can't let you do that! You need to be here, for your acting career! And your parents live here!"
"Chandler," Joey suggested reasonably, "My acting career here sucks! You mean so much more to me than acting. You're my brother. Besides there's a film industry in New York, too. As for leaving my parents… most of my sisters are in Queens, where we all grew up." Joey was silent for a second, "Besides… you know that hurt you feel over Angie? I feel it, too. You know how close me and Angie were. It'd be nice for me to start over, too. Besides, you might want some help with Michelle. I don't want to miss my niece growing up, either."
Chandler still sounded unsure, though he reluctantly had to admit his best friend had laid out a very convincing case, "If you're sure?"
"Of course I'm sure," Joey affirmed, "When do we leave?"
"We left three days later," Chandler admitted, "and we've been in New York ever since." He had been surprising himself, reliving all these memories wasn't nearly as painful as he'd imagined it'd be. He thought it probably had something to do with Monica, and her affectionate approach to getting him to open up. He felt so much closer to her now, sharing all this with her. He just prayed that when the evening inevitably came to an end, the connection that had been strengthened between them wouldn't disappear.
Monica smiled, "Joey must love you and Michelle very much. To be willing to give up his life in LA for you."
"Yeah," Chandler agreed with a thoughtful smile, "He's my brother in every sense of the word. I don't know what I'd do without him or Phoebe in my life. They keep me grounded. Michelle would also be stuck at daycare a lot more if it wasn't for them."
"How did you meet Phoebe, anyway?" Monica asked, struggling not to sound the tiniest bit jealous and remind him of her earlier craziness.
"About a week after we moved here, we met her in this wacky little coffeehouse, a lot like Central Perk, actually," Chandler explained, "She used to play guitar there, and well Joey and I wandered in one day with Michelle. Michelle ran off, ended up 'talking' to her, with what few words she knew at the time. Well, they hit it off, and Phoebe's been hanging with us ever since. And that's pretty much the story there."
"Well, Michelle is adorable," Monica admitted. "Though she seems to be making a habit of running off," she laughed, referring to Michelle running into her at Central Perk. "I can tell you're an amazing Daddy, though," Monica confessed, "She's lucky to have you."
Chandler, smiled, "Thanks. I try. I do wonder what effect Angie leaving is going to have on her when she's older, though. She doesn't really understand, or care right now, but in the future… she's going to have no Mommy to go shopping for a wedding dress with or to go to with her girly problems. What girl would want to do that with her Dad?"
"You're so much more than a normal dad to her, trust me," Monica assured. "She adores you."
Chandler gave a half-hearted smile in response, but his brow remained creased, as he continued to dwell on the subject. Suddenly changing the subject, he said pensively, "When I fell in love with Angie, I thought we'd be together forever. I never thought, in my wildest dreams it'd turn out this way." He sighed, "I guess few people do. She seemed like a natural mother…"
Monica stayed silent, leaning against him, from her position nearly on his lap, encouraging him to continue without a word.
"You know, when I met her, I was drunk out of my mind, I doubt I could have told you my own name. We weren't supposed to last, it was just a drunken thing… but then, I fell in love," he laughed, "It was the best and worst thing ever. I've never been more terrified in my life of a single emotion. Now I feel so lost without it…"
Monica rested her head on his shoulder, "Tell me how you met her."
Chandler smiled, a bittersweet smile flitting across his face, "Joey was having a party in our apartment, for his birthday…"
Chandler sat at one of the barstools in his apartment, looking around at the crowd gathered for the party, bored out of his mind. He watched slightly bitter, as Joey chatted up several women at once. Chandler admitted to himself that that was certainly a feat that required some talent. He could barely talk to one woman at a time. Feeling a sudden wave of depression hit at his lack of girlfriend and the lack of potential for one any time in the foreseeable future, he snatched a second jello shot off the tray on the counter, swallowing it quickly before he could regret it.
Less than a week ago, he'd broken up with Janice. She'd been his first serious relationship, since college. Chandler had thought he had been doing everything right. He was considerate and sweet, romantic and proved his willingness to commit. However, the second that Janice's husband had come back into her life, he'd been cheated on and ditched, just like in all the other relationships of his life.
Sighing, pushing Janice and her infidelity from his mind, he decided he'd do better to stop being miserable, and at least try to have some fun. He stood up, wavering slightly on the spot as the alcohol he'd consumed suddenly rushed to his head. Just as he did so, the apartment door burst open, and all of Joey's seven sisters filed messily into the apartment, shouting out congratulations and birthday wishes to their brother.
The party had progressed in a typical fashion, music blaring and everyone but him, it seemed, was having fun.
Joey, sensing that his roommate was still feeling a little upset about Janice, approached him, "Hey buddy, how're you holding up?"
Chandler shrugged. "Okay, I guess. I wish Janice was here, though," he mused sadly.
"Don't think like that," Joey assured him, adding a moment later, "What you need now, is to move on! Get over Janice! Find someone new. Hey! This party is filled with tons of hot chicks, go mingle and have some fun!"
Chandler sighed, trust Joey to be the one to suggest that a rebound was what he needed to get over Janice. Not quite sure what to say, he settled on a simple, "Thanks, man."
"Oh hey, Chandler, could you do me a favour and pass around these jello shots?" Joey asked, snatching them from the counter, "They're just sittin' there and no one's realizing they're there."
Chandler agreed, accepting the platter. 'Great,' he thought, 'just what I need to get over Janice. A night of being relegated to the role of waiter.' Feeling a surge of self-pity, he grabbed a shot from the tray, quickly downing it. When that didn't make him feel any better, he snatched another and downed it, too.
Half an hour later, Chandler was feeling decidedly more upbeat, though that may have been the alcohol in his system. After sharing several jello shots with Pat, his and Joey's ceramic dog, Chandler had a sudden brilliant flash. It would be a great idea, he decided, to erase Janice from the speed dial settings on the phone.
He stomped over to it, intent on erasing Janice's number. As he was doing so, several of Joey's sisters sidled up to him, and the one whose name he was fairly sure was Mary Angela – they all looked so similar! How was he supposed to be sure? – asked him what he had been doing.
He explained his plan, and received a chorus of 'Awws,' but was quick to rebut, in a drunken, slurred voice, "No, no, no, it's a good thing. Why must we dial so speedily anyway?" Despite a vague feeling in the back of his head that he should be embarrassed for his drunken ramblings, he continued, "Why must we rush through life? Why can't we savour the precious moments?"
After all her sisters had cleared aw,ay Mary Angela sidled up to him, wrapping an arm around him casually. "Hey. Do you wanna maybe go and talk somewhere? You seemed kinda upset, just now, and I thought I might be able to help you feel a little better," she hinted.
Chandler smiled broadly at her. Maybe this party wouldn't be a total waste after all… "Okay, wanna talk in the hall?" he suggested.
After a quick glance backwards to make sure Joey wasn't watching them, Mary Angela took his hand and led him into the hallway. From there, she quickly pulled him towards the storage closet. She wasted no time pushing him against the wall, explaining, "I always thought you were cute." She didn't give him a chance to reply. As soon as the phrase left her mouth, her lips were pushed against his. Despite being drunk, something in the back of his mind screamed that this was a bad idea. He promptly ignored it. The feel of her warmth pressed up against him, her lips soft and alluring was too tempting to ignore.
The next morning Chandler awoke in his bed, with a pounding headache. He groaned and rolled over, surprised to be confronted with a woman. A woman! How drunk had he been last night? Feeling like the biggest idiot that had ever walked the planet, he tapped her on the shoulder. The woman moaned slightly, and opened her eyes, smiling sweetly at him. Damn, this was not good! She was definitely one of Joey's sisters… He squinted at her trying to remember her name. No such luck.
"Good morning, Chandler," she cooed, cuddling up to him.
He opened and closed his mouth twice, not quite sure what to say, eventually settling on, "Morning," his tone overly bright.
She smiled up at him, like he was the best part of her day. "I really enjoyed our talk last night," she admitted, "You're really sweet, you know that?"
They had talked? He vaguely remembered making out in the storage closet. His memories were decidedly fuzzy after that. They must have talked after the making out, he decided. "Oh, I don't know," he faltered, feeling like the world's biggest jerk. He didn't even know her name and she was calling him sweet?
"No, you were," she countered "You were amazing last, night, too, if you know what I mean," she added shyly, "I really think we might have something special here."
Not wanting to upset her, because he had the feeling if he did, she'd tell Joey, who would definitely kill him, he agreed. "Oh yeah. I could definitely see myself falling for you. You're a really cool person." It sounded lame, even to his ears.
"Well, as much as I'd love to stay here all day, I've gotta get back to campus for class. I guess you know all about that, huh? You graduated last year, right?" He nodded, mutely, as she got dressed. Before leaving, she leaned over the bed to kiss him goodbye, and hand him a small sheet of paper with her name and number on it, instructing him to call her. He smiled at her weakly, barely noticing her leave.
He looked down at the paper. The name Mary Angela was scribbled neatly above seven digits. Well, at least he knew her name now.
"I never meant to fall for her," Chandler explained, "But then, Joey found out, and he was so happy at the idea of us as a couple, and you know the prospect of being my brother-in-law some day. I was a huge coward and didn't want to get a fist in the face, so I decided to keep up the charade until I could talk to her and let her down gently the next night at dinner…"
Chandler sat uncomfortably at the Tribbiani dinner table. After finding out about the budding romance between Chandler and Mary Angela, Joey had invited him to the family dinner. He kept throwing out hints about what a cute couple they made, and all the things that he and Chandler would do when they were brothers in-law.
Chandler figured he better act soon, before Joey got even more carried away in his exuberance and started describing their future kids.
"Chandler!" Joey whined, snapping Chandler from his thoughts, "Weren't you listening to what I said?"
Chandler looked apologetic, "I'm sorry, I was just thinking."
Giving Chandler a nudge, Joey winked and asked, "About Mary Angela?" Chandler nodded, not sure what else to say. Besides, he had sort of been thinking of her.
"Anyway," Joey continued, "I was wondering if when we're, you know, brothers-in-law you wanna go fishing."
Chandler looked at him exasperatedly. "We're not brothers-in-law, yet, Joe!"
"I know!" Joey stated, as if Chandler was the one being ridiculous, "It's just never too early to start planning these things."
Chandler rolled his eyes and changed the topic. "This tiramisu is excellent," he complimented. Grandma Tribbiani smiled at him, approvingly. 'Great' he thought, 'I'm in with the family, and they're probably going to hate me by the end of the night.'
Figuring now was as good a time as any, Chandler looked around the table, trying to distinguish Mary Angela among all the sisters. They all looked so similar… he glanced at each face, critically, before deciding the one in the black and red dress was definitely her. When she caught his eye across the table, and a grin exploded across her face, he grew more certain he'd picked the right sister.
He excused himself from his seat, making sure to brush against Mary Angela as he walked past, subtly hinting that she should follow him. He was pleased, when a minute later, she slid from her seat, and met him in the living room, a huge grin on her face.
"I'm so glad you decided to come to dinner tonight," she smiled. "I couldn't stop thinking about you all day," she informed, reaching up to kiss him. He blocked her and twisted himself away from her touch.
"About that," he began, "I was thinking-" Mary Angela was paying no attention. She interrupted him playfully, "Stop playing hard to get, Chandler Bing!" She moved to kiss him again, and this time Chandler wasn't quick enough.
Their lips collided together messily as Chandler squirmed, realizing too late that she was lunging toward him. After an awkward moment, however, Chandler found himself returning the kiss. He melted into her, surprised with himself for allowing the kiss continue this far. But it felt so perfect, and right. He melded into her, unable to tear himself away from the softness of her lips.
Mary Angela was the one to finally pull away. She pressed herself up against him, leaning her head against his chest. Chandler swallowed heavily, slightly dazed. He hadn't been expecting the rush of emotions. As pleasant as it was, it unnerved him.
Mary Angela spoke again. "What were you going to say earlier?" she asked.
"Uh, what?" Chandler asked dumbly, his head still spinning.
"You said you were thinking about us?" she told him, "What were you going to say?"
Chandler swallowed again to wet his dry mouth. What was he going to say? He suddenly didn't want whatever this was between them to end. "Uh, I, was, I mean, wanted to ask you if maybe you wanted to go out for dinner? On a date?" he stuttered.
"And it pretty much carried on from there," Chandler explained, "14 months later we had Michelle, and 4 months after that, Joey got his wish and we got married."
"You guys had Michelle before you got married?" Monica asked, surprised.
"Yeah. We weren't planning on having her. She was like some divine gift from God, as horribly cheesy as that sounds," he shrugged, "I don't know what I'd do without her," Chandler confessed, "The day she was born was the best day of my life."
He wore a big smile on his face as the happy memories flooded through his mind. Monica was pleased to see that he had recovered enough from the previous more downtrodden topic of conversation to share his happiness with her.
Contemplating all that had been said, Monica blurted out, without really thinking, "You guys hadn't been married very long, then, when she left."
Chandler shook his head, in agreement, distress slipping back into his tone, "Only six months. I think that's part of why it was so devastating and hit me so hard. I thought we had it made! Our whole lives were ahead of us! We were still newlyweds, and we had a baby daughter. How does it get more perfect than that?" he questioned, rhetorically.
Sensing that he was drifting back towards his melancholy state from before, Monica hugged him tightly, as if trying to erase what she had blurted out a moment ago. She squirmed uncomfortably as something dug into her arm. Lifting herself slightly away from Chandler, she realized the object poking her was his ring, on the chain around his neck.
Seeing her staring at the ring, Chandler squirmed uncomfortably. Monica touched it, hesitantly, as if afraid it might burn her.
When his eyes met hers, Chandler could read the question in them, even before it was voiced, "Why do you still wear it?"
Chandler looked hesitant, as if he was worried she might be upset by his response.
"You can tell me anything, sweetie." Monica coaxed, the term of endearment slipping out, unconsciously, as she tried to get him to relax his tensed muscles. She stroked his back soothingly, expanding, "I want you to tell me everything. I want you to have this outlet. No more bottling stuff up."
Chandler still looked hesitant for a moment, before a small smile burst across his face. "You're perfect, you know that?"
"So I've been told. Only wish my mother felt the same," she sighed.
"If your mother doesn't realize how perfect you are, she's an idiot," Chandler breathed into her hair, as he cuddled against her. "So perfect," by mumbled.
"Hey, hey! Flattery will not get you out of this. Start talking, mister."
Chandler shrugged, looking thoughtful, giving serious consideration to his answer. "I'm not really sure why. I guess it feels safe and comfortable. I've done it for so long. I never really thought about why. At first it was because I didn't want to be the loser who wore his wedding ring, after his wife left him. Yet, I wasn't willing to take it off. I felt I needed it to feel close to Mary Angela, after she left."
Monica looked at him a little lost, quite sure of the response she was expecting. However knowing that he wore his wedding band because he needed to feel close to his ex-wife, wasn't something she'd prepared herself for. She felt a little hurt at the thought of it, even though she knew it was irrational. She wanted him to feel close to her, not some other woman.
A little bit of her hurt seeping into her tone, she asked, "Why the hell would you want to feel close to someone willing able to stomp all over you heart like that?"
It was Chandler's turn to comfort Monica. He hugged, her, sliding her further onto his lap, mumbling reassuringly, "I don't. Not anymore. I have my sights set higher," he explained, smiling into her eyes, hopefully.
Monica felt her heart flutter, and tried futilely to keep the desperation out of her voice, as she muttered, "Really?"
He nodded, taking off the necklace and handing it to her. "I don't need it anymore. I don't even know why I still wear it. I gave up on the hope of Angie coming back years ago. I only wear it because it's one of those things I did that has became habit and just feels right. It was like I needed the weight around my neck to function properly. I know that sounds stupid," he admitted, "but I don't know how else to explain it."
Monica shook her head, clutching the ring tightly in her palm. "It doesn't sound stupid to me at all."
Even though he'd made it fairly obvious he was willing to move on, Monica felt the need to ask, anyway. Staring down at her lap, she quickly drummed up the courage and blurted out the question before she lost her nerve, "Do you still lov-"
Before the question was even fully out of her mouth, he answered. "Yes." Monica looked at him, her expression wounded, but he quickly rushed on, "I'm always going to love her for giving Michelle, but that's the extent of it. I love her as the mother of my child. Not as a wife. Not anymore." Monica looked relieved, and squeezed his hand appreciatively.
They sat in silence for a moment, both considering all that had been said, before Monica broke the silence in a barely audible voice, asking, "What about me? Could you ever see yourself … with me?"
Chandler smiled, grasping her hand, which was still clutching his ring, stroking the back of her knuckles with his thumb. "I thought my feelings for you were obvious."
Monica scoffed. "You shot me down cold a week ago in the cab, after I thought we hit it off. I don't hear from you, until a week later, when I bump into you in a coffeehouse, completely by accident and find you're still mourning the loss of your ex-wife. I think I'm entitled to feel a little unsure here," she mused, looking up at him with wide blue eyes. "I want to hear you say it. Tell me how you feel," she begged.
"I'm crazy about you, Monica," he admitted, "Just because I'm an idiot who keeps stupid feelings he no longer even has bottled up, and then uses them as an excuse to avoid falling in love again, has nothing to do with how I feel about you. You're gorgeous. Beautiful in every sense of the word. I've have to be an even bigger idiot than I've already been to not want to be with you. I can see happily ever after with you. I know that's probably presumptuous, being that we've never even been on a date, but I think I've proven today that I'm all over the emotional map." He sighed, taking a deep breath in an attempt to curb his rambling, "I guess what I'm really trying to get at here is that I could definitely see myself falling for you."
Monica looked at him with shiny eyes, a smile sliding across her face, "That's the sweetest thing I've ever heard." She reached up and stroked his cheek, tenderly.
Chandler grinned back, reveling in the feel of her hand against his cheek. "Really?"
Monica nodded, not trusting herself to reply with words. Hardly giving herself a second to think about what she was going to do before she did it, she leaned in, and planted a gentle kiss first against his forehead, then his nose, and finally his lips.
The moment their lips met, in their first kiss, they were both gone, too lost in the wealth of emotions that fluttered within them to even consider what would happen when they parted.
The kiss was deepened near instantaneously as they melted into one another, reclining back into the couch. Chandler's hands slid up Monica's back, and wound themselves into her hair, gently cradling and caressing her head, all his efforts concentrated on expressing how much she meant to him through their kiss. Monica's hands soon followed suit, caressing his arms and shoulders, before eventually tangling their way into his hair. Her fingers weaved through his hair, stroking it, pulling him closer, her need to feel as close to him as possible overwhelming her.
The both stopped, and pulled away abruptly, when they heard a loud ting; the sound of metal hitting a hard surface.
Looking around, breathlessly, for the source of the disturbance, they spotted his wedding ring on the floor at their feet, where it had fallen after Monica dropped it, as she and Chandler lost themselves in their haste to express their feelings for one another.
They both sat up, still panting slightly, unable to stop themselves from staring at the jewelry forlornly.
It wasn't just the noise the ring had made that had parted them... There was so much tied up in that ring… his divorce and lingering affection for his ex-wife, his daughter… There was so much riding against them. Were they strong enough to form a relationship in spite of all that?
xx
The new material has arrived! I've spent ages going over and over this one, so I hope it turned out okay for you all :)
I know it's mostly angsty and depressing, but happier more upbeat stuff is to come. All the others, including Joey and Rachel will reappear in the next chapter, too, for all of you that appreciate them :)
I'd really like feedback on this one, more than the others, because it is completely new and I want to try and make sure if segues with the old material without seeming like it was written by a totally different person. Any suggestions or comments are completely welcome.