Listen to Your Heart – Chapter Twelve
xx
"Mary Angela?" Chandler repeated, his voice strained with shock. He tightened his grip on Michelle to refrain from dropping her. "What are you doing here?"
"Hi, Chandler," she almost whispered, asking pleasantly, "How are you?"
Chandler scowled at her, not pleased with the attempt at small talk, "What are you doing here, Mary Angela?"
Mary Angela looked downcast; he rarely called her anything but Angie, except when they were fighting. "It's my brother's wedding," she answered defensively, "Daddy invited me."
"Joe?" Chandler questioned suspiciously, "But you haven't talked to your parents since you left three years ago!"
"I was scared of what everyone would say about me," she explained, uncomfortable. "I finally worked up the nerve to call Daddy a couple of weeks ago. Mom didn't know. I was going to surprise everyone by showing up here. I wanted to call you, too, but I was too scared of what you'd say. I wanted to apologize. It wasn't fair what I did to you. You deserved that much, at least," she said quietly.
"Who's that, Daddy?" Michelle wondered, looking up at her mother with curious eyes. She kicked her legs a few times in an attempt to get Chandler to put her down, but he held her fast in his arms.
He seemed a little uncomfortable at the question, but answered, hesitantly, "That's Aunt Mary Angela, sweetie. She's Uncle Joey's sister."
'Michelle?' Mary Angela mouthed, staring teary-eyed at the daughter she hadn't seen in more than three years. She hardly resembled her 10-month-old self. Chandler nodded uneasily. Mary Angela reached to stroke her hair, but Chandler turned slightly so he was blocking her access to his daughter, his eyes dark and protective.
"You're pretty," Michelle told her, "Monica is pretty, too."
"Monica?" Mary Angela wondered carefully, with a raised eyebrow.
Chandler sighed, not really wanting to talk about what had been unleashed. He set Michelle down, deciding it would be better if he and Mary Angela talked without their four-year-old present. He turned Michelle to face him, staring into her eyes sternly, making it clear what he was about to say was a demand, not a request. "Go over to Monica, while I talk to Aunt Mary Angela, okay? Do not run off again. You understand?" Michelle nodded solemnly, before skipping off towards Monica.
Mary Angela watched her go, with a proud smile, "I can't believe how big she's gotten! She's four, now! I haven't seen her since she was a baby!"
Chandler glowered at her, "Whose fault is that?"
Mary Angela looked down at the floor, "I'm sorry, okay? You have no idea how much I regret what I did to you and Michelle. The past three years have been misery."
Chandler huffed, "And you think it was all sunshine and rainbows for us? I had to raise our daughter alone for the past three years! At least your misery was your own damn fault. Michelle and I did nothing! Do you have any idea what it was like the day you left? We had been planning to go to the park and I was in love with my wife! Then, I suddenly find out I meant absolutely nothing to her! So don't even try to sell me a sob story, because you were not the one who got screwed! I did! Michelle did! Not you!"
Mary Angela wiped away a stray tear that had dripped onto her cheek. "I'm sorry. I really am! You have no idea. I didn't mean to hurt you. It was never about you. I felt trapped. I was 22 and married with a baby! I had barely had a chance to live my life! I was feeling stifled and didn't know how to cope with that and I panicked. I wanted to come back the second I realized what I was giving up, but I was scared of what you'd say. I missed both of you but I was a coward. It's taken me three years to be able to work up the courage to do this."
"So?" Chandler snapped, careful to keep his voice steady, to avoid drawing attention to them, "I was your husband! 'Til death do us part! Or did our marriage vows mean nothing to you! You could have talked to me! We could have figured something out together that didn't involve you abandoning your entire family! You could have at least left a damn note!"
"I didn't do it because I didn't love you! I did, so much! I still do! Even after three years. I've not found anyone I could love as much as I loved you. I've tried to move on, but I never could! And now I know I've cursed myself, because I don't deserve you anymore!"
"You're right about that," Chandler returned icily, "You don't get the right to ask anything from me."
"I know, you're right, sweetie," she agreed.
Chandler scoffed at the term of endearment, interrupting, "Do not call me that. Just don't."
Mary Angela raised her hands and took a step back, gesturing that she meant no offense, but continued, "Would you please, at least consider us? I know you still love me. If you didn't care about me, you wouldn't bother fighting with me. You don't argue if you don't care. I know you're angry, but you still care about me. I can see it in your face."
"You're wrong!" Chandler returned coldly, "I cared about you once, and it nearly killed me. I'm not going down that road again! I'm not going to let Michelle get to know you now that she's old enough to understand what's going on, only to have you torn away again if you leave!" He sighed, deeply, running a hand across his face tiredly. "We've finally moved on. We're doing okay without you and you come back and turn everything upside-down again! Why can't you just let us live our lives?" he wondered mournfully, his eyes shiny with unshed tears.
"I know I'm asking a lot from you, honey," she told him carefully, pleased when he didn't flinch at the affectionate term this time, "And I'm so sorry for it. I was a bitch three years ago. I didn't consider what I was doing to you. But I've grown up since then! I wasn't expecting to ask this of you so soon, but when I saw you, it all spilled out and I couldn't help myself. I need you. The past three years I've felt like I was missing a part of myself. I thought I was doing us both a favour, leaving before we got more attached, or maybe had more children, but now I realize that that was a stupid way of thinking. I was already attached. Now that I'm here with you, it's like I feel whole again. I know I don't deserve to ask… but think about us?… Wouldn't it be great if Michelle could have a proper family again?"
"No!" Chandler snipped, "I don't even know you anymore! I couldn't trust you, even if I wanted to!" Mary Angela looked a little hurt by the statement, but nodded in understanding. "How am I supposed to trust someone who would leave her entire family without even a goodbye! Michelle and I are doing better than we ever have and we've done it all without you! We don't need you!"
Mary Angela moved toward him, her eyes imploring him to understand. He backed away not wanting to hear any more apologies. He just wanted to be at home with Monica and Michelle, and pretend none of this had ever happened. "I'm so sorry," she explained as he finally met her eyes, "I shouldn't have done this to you. It was too soon. My feelings got the best of me. I need to prove to you that you can trust me again. And I will! I'll do whatever it takes."
"What's going on here!?" Monica wondered as she rushed up to the pair, "Michelle said you were talking to…" she trailed off as the sight of the other woman confirmed the little girl's story. Monica glared at her coldly, gripping Chandler's hand tightly in support.
"Who are you?" Mary Angela wondered icily, staring at Monica suspiciously, "And what are you doing with my daughter?!"
Monica glared back fiercely and Chandler was worried for a moment that she was going to injure his ex-wife. He quickly wrapped an arm around her so he could restrain her if need be. "Your daughter?" she laughed sardonically. "You abandoned her! You're less Michelle's mother than Joey is!" Chandler suppressed an inappropriate laugh at the odd mental imagery, "Chandler is the only parent she's ever known. And a damn good one! If you know what's good for you you'll just stay away," Monica threatened.
"Look," Mary Angela snapped back, "I don't know who you think you are, but this doesn't concern you. I've made mistakes, but I regret them and I'm trying to apologize for them. So, if you don't mind, go deal with your own problems, and leave me and Chandler to deal with this, okay?" She made little sarcastic waving motions, as if getting Monica to leave was nothing more than an annoyance, "Goodbye!"
Chandler rolled his eyes, not really in the mood to deal with jealousy. He interrupted sternly before Monica could retort back, "Mary Angela, leave her alone. This does concern her, actually. This is Monica, my girlfriend," he explained, with a hint of pride. He couldn't help the trace smugness that overcame him when Mary Angela paled and glanced back and forth between them in hurt disbelief. As childish as he knew it would sound if he were to admit it out loud, it felt good to know he had hurt her after all she had put him through over the years.
"Girlfriend?" Mary Angela wondered in a choked voice, "You've moved on? Already?"
"What, did you think you could just abandon me and come pick me up again whenever you felt like it? It's been three years! Three goddamn years, Mary Angela! You didn't even give our marriage six months! Monica and I have been together for ten months, and we're going to stay together. I love her and she loves me. So, whatever misguided ideas you have about you, me and Michelle being a family… forget them. Monica is our family now. It's not going to happen." Monica hugged his waist possessively, sneering at Mary Angela triumphantly. The other woman averted her eyes, not wanting so see Monica gloat her victory.
"Chandler," she pleaded, glancing at the brunette on his arm spitefully, "She doesn't know you like I do! She can't! We-"
"We nothing," Chandler snipped, "I'm with Monica now. We're over, Mary Angela." Chandler sighed. He squeezed Monica's hand and pulled her towards Ross and Julie who were entertaining Michelle. "That's all there is to it. Have a nice life, okay?"
xx
In the period since the confrontation Chandler's behaviour could only be described as despondent. For the duration of the reception he had become almost anti-social, refusing to dance with Monica, or do anything but follow her wherever she dragged him, careful to avoid his ex-wife. He rarely participated in the conversation or did anything more than walk around in a daze. Even when directly asked a question he would only respond in terse one-word answers. He only put on a happy face when his daughter would pass by, but otherwise remained subdued and pensive. He was so unreachable he was beginning to scare Monica.
After staying at the reception 45 minutes, Monica and Chandler could no longer stand the tension and excused themselves from the party, retreating to his apartment. Monica, with a little help from a distracted Chandler had managed to get Michelle to bed with minimal complaints. The hours of running around the ballroom had tired her out and she was slumbering almost as soon as she was tucked into bed. Both adults were grateful for the quiet time with their thoughts.
Once they were both settled on the couch after getting Michelle to bed, Monica tapped Chandler on the shoulder to get his attention, desperately wanting him to open up to her about his thoughts and feelings. She hadn't thought Joey and Rachel's wedding reception was the time or place, but now that they were home, she hoped they would be able to talk freely. She hated the thought of him dealing with such complicated feelings on his own. "Are you okay, sweetie?" she wondered, softly, stroking his shoulder in a comforting way, letting him know she was there for him.
"Yeah," he sighed sadly, without even looking up at her. He hugged the throw pillow he was holding tighter, ignoring her presence.
Monica wasn't content with the one-word answer. "Are you sure? I know how much Mary Angela hurt you. If you want to talk…" she trailed off, offering an outlet.
"I said I was fine, Monica," he retorted, shortly, still refusing to meet her eyes.
"It just doesn't seem like you are," she told him gently, "I'm here to help. Talk to me, please? If not for you, for me? I want to." She placed her hand on the side of his cheek, gently turning his face towards her, and forcing his eyes to meet hers.
The second their eyes met, he shrugged her hand away, averting his eyes. He knew if he allowed himself to look into her beautiful eyes for too long he would spill his every thought and fear and he wasn't prepared to do that. "I'm fine!" he snapped, "Leave me alone! I don't want to talk about it!" He blinked several times and Monica could see he was fighting back tears. In a calmer, more shaky voice, he added, "Let's go to bed."
She could feel warm, salty tears pricking the backs of her own eyes at the sight of him in such turmoil. She leaned up against him, a tear trickling down her face at the sight of his misery. Wanting to reassure him that she was there for him she told him softly, "I'm sorry. I'm here for whatever you need. I love you."
He sighed unevenly and wrapped an arm around her shoulders in apology. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I didn't mean to snap at you. It's nothing you did, it's all me. Don't cry, please? I hate it when you cry."
"I'm not upset that you snapped, Chandler! I'm upset because you're upset. I can't help it. I love you and I can't stand seeing you like this! We're in this together, remember? Just let me in, please? I want to help you."
"Can't we just drop this?" he pleaded, "I know you want to help, but you're only going to get more upset if I share. I don't want to do that to you. So let's just leave it and go to bed, okay?"
"Okay," Monica agreed hesitantly. Even if he didn't want to talk about it now, he would have to sooner or later. Perhaps it was just too recent in his memory for him to be able to open up comfortably, she decided. He probably just needed a little more time to mull over his thoughts to himself before sharing them with her.
He followed her, his shoulders slumped tiredly, as she headed towards his bedroom. They both immediately began undressing for bed. Monica went to his drawers and pulled out a T-shirt and a pair of his boxer shorts for makeshift pajamas, even though she had plenty of her own things stored in his closet. She knew how much he loved it when she wore his clothes and even though the insignificant thing was unlikely to sway him to open up, she wanted to do everything she could, however small, that might help influence his decision.
She dressed quickly in his clothes, loving that they smelled like him, and scooted under the covers of his bed, watching as he stripped to boxers and T-shirt himself before climbing in after her.
Once they were both settled, Chandler placed a hand on her hip and pulled her close enough to peck her, whispering a soft, 'Goodnight.' She returned the sentiment, and reached to flip off the lamp on her nightstand, the only remaining light in the room. As soon as darkness enveloped them, Monica felt Chandler roll away from her, lying on his side with his back facing her.
Not wanting to leave him alone in his unhappiness, Monica rolled over and cuddled up to him, wrapping an arm around him from behind, feeling him tense as she did. She stroked his chest for a moment wondering why he had returned to being so distant before she realized he was shaking with silent sobs, and was clearly trying to hide it from her. She felt a stab of pain at the thought that he would try to hide something that was hurting him so much from her. She continued to gently stroke his chest, comfortingly, wanting him to feel her presence, unsure what else to do to help him.
Deciding keeping quiet was her best option, she remained silent, but kissed him compassionately on his hair, surprised to feel his shaking intensify as she did. Eventually his sobs slowed into small hiccups. After a few minutes he quieted, his breathing returning to normal.
Fighting away tears of her own at the intensity of his emotions, Monica continued to stroke his chest gently, occasionally feathering maternal kisses on top of his head, doing her best to soothe his anxieties without words. Finally, after what seemed like hours, his breathing deepened to a slow and steady lull. Content with the knowledge that he had drifted into a place of happy thoughts and dreams, Monica snuggled against his back and allowed sleep to overtake her.
xx
Chandler awoke the next morning to find the back of his T-shirt damp. Twisting in his girlfriend's arms to find the source of the problem, he caught sight of Monica's tearstained face and the previous night's events shot back into his conscious with a painful thump. The new day and the sight of his girlfriend brought a new clarity to the situation.
The sight of the tear tracks on Monica's face made him feel insanely guilty for what he had put her through the night before. He had been so wrapped up in his own feelings that he had barely considered how she was feeling. He knew she had to feel slightly threatened by his apparent inability to completely get over his ex-wife. Yet, she had spent the entire night comforting him, while he had shunned her feelings in return. He decided as soon as she woke up he would ask her how she was feeling, and attempt to make up for his idiocy.
A warm surge of gratefulness for his girlfriend's compassion and understanding swelled as he hugged her closer to his chest, promising himself that she would never cry because he was an idiot again, even if it meant he had to plaster a fake happy smile on his face for the next two weeks. The movement jolted her, and her eyes fluttered open, meeting his apologetic ones. The first thing out of her mouth was, "Are you feeling better?" As sweet as the sentiment was, it only served to make him feel like a bigger bastard. Why should she care how he was feeling when he hardly returned the same courtesy?
He nodded, hugging her tighter, "I'm sorry I was such a jerk last night. I was freaking out. I didn't realize how badly I was hurting you until I woke up and saw you lying there in a puddle of tears! I'm a huge, huge, huge idiot, and I'm sorry, okay? Are you alright?"
"I'm fine Chandler," Monica assured him, "I'm just worried about you. You scared me last night shutting me out like that!"
"I know, I won't do it again, I promise. I didn't handle bumping into Mary Angela very well," he explained as if she didn't know. "I won't do that to you again. I love you," He kissed her, trying to assure her he was fine before continuing in a falsely bright, cheerful tone, "Wanna go shower and get breakfast?"
"Chandler," Monica called after him as he got out of bed and headed for the door, "Don't do this. Just because you're pretending to be happy, doesn't make everything all okay. Come, sit, talk to me. If we're going to spend the rest of our lives together, you're going to have to get used to sharing how you feel with me!"
"What?" Chandler complained, maintaining the façade, "I'm happy, see?" He pointed at his face, which was plastered with a forced smile. "People don't smile if they aren't happy, Mon!" he told her, as if she was being ridiculous.
"They do if they're lying to their girlfriends to get out of telling them the truth!" Monica told him sharply, "I know you're upset! Why don't you want to tell me what's wrong? Keeping your feelings bottled up can't make you feel better. I can," Monica pleaded. Chandler remained stoic. Seeing that he wasn't going to spill, Monica decided she would start the conversation instead, "You cried yourself to sleep last night, Chandler. Don't try and tell me you woke up completely fine."
"You knew that?" Chandler questioned, embarrassed.
"Of course I knew!" Monica exclaimed, "Maybe you weren't sobbing out loud, but I could feel you shaking like a leaf!"
"So?" Chandler shrugged avoiding her eyes, accusing her, petulantly, "You cried, too! I woke up in a puddle!"
"It's not a contest, Chandler," Monica sighed. "I'm trying to help you. But you've got to want to help yourself, first! Come. Sit," she demanded, patting the bed beside her. Chandler moved, following her orders, reluctantly.
"I just wasn't expecting her to be there is all," Chandler told her quietly, his tone defensive as he slid under his bedspread. He looked down at it and began tracing the patterns on it, to avoid looking into her eyes.
"I know, sweetie," Monica assured him, stroking his hair, "You weren't expecting to have to deal with this, now. I know… but it's happened, and I think it would be better for both of us if we talked about it."
Chandler scoffed in frustration. "Why'd she have to show up at all? Who is she to ruin our lives at the drop of a hat? Michelle and I are good! I've finally managed to move on and fall in love with a fantastic woman and she has to show up to ruin everything!"
"Nothing's ruined, sweetie," Monica promised him, "Is that what you were worried about? How this would affect our relationship? We're good, aren't we?"
"Yes," Chandler nodded slightly in agreement, "It doesn't change how I feel about you… but I saw how you got all protective and feisty," he smiled in spite of himself, "when you saw her yesterday. Does it change how you feel about me? You aren't worried you might get hurt and decide I'm not worth the bother?" he question insecurely, "I don't want my ex-wife to mess up everything between us."
"Oh honey!" Monica exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him comfortingly, pleased that he didn't shrug her away like he had done the night before. "Is that why you've been so distant? I wasn't upset with you!" she reassured, "I know you're going to have to talk to Mary Angela about this, and I don't resent you for it. I just don't want to see you or Michelle get hurt! I love you both so much."
Chandler sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "I don't mean to be distant," he said in a small voice, sounding very child-like, "It's just you and Michelle are the two most important people in my life right now. I don't want to lose you by driving you away with all my baggage."
"You could never," Monica promised, "I love you and I won't give that up so easily."
Once reassured that Monica would love him no matter what happened, a floodgate seemed to open in Chandler. "Still, who does she think she is just intruding on my life like that?!" he questioned, rhetorically, "If she cared about us at all, like she said she does, she would have stayed away!"
"She made a mistake," Monica suggested, impartially, "She's having trouble dealing with the fact she's never really gotten over you. Love makes people do weird things."
"No! A mistake is breaking a plate. A mistake is spilling some milk! A mistake is not abandoning your entire family and waiting three years to see them again," he raged, "She just showed up out of nowhere on our bestfriends' wedding day! It should have been a happy day about congratulating Joey and Rachel! But all I can think about now is her and how she destroyed my life three years ago! And now… now she's trying to do it again!"
"Shh…" Monica comforted, stroking his back as he ranted, expelling his frustration.
"She says wants us to be a family again!" he growled loudly. "How dare she think that I could even stand to look at her, let alone fall in love with her again! I know Angie, as much as I wish I didn't… I know I hurt her by being in love with you!" he huffed, "But I love you… I don't know what to do, because part of me still cares about her, too! I'm actually sorry that I love you! I know that makes me a horrible person, because you're so amazing, and she's… well, she doesn't deserve anything from me! But I'm feeling sorry for her!"
"I know that you'll always care about her, sweetie, and that's okay," Monica reassured him, "I know you love me now. Don't make yourself feel guilty. That's not doing either of us any favours."
"What if she wants to see Michelle?" he wondered, suddenly sounding terrified, "What am I going to do, then? Michelle stands to get very hurt. I can't introduce her to her mother, only to have her disappear again in a couple months! I don't want her anywhere near our daughter! She doesn't deserved to be called Michelle's mother anymore! You are more her mother than Mary Angela is!" Chandler suggested. Monica fought away her smile. Ever since she had fallen in love with Chandler and realized how much she adored his daughter, that was all she had wanted: to know she meant something to both of them.
"That's understandable," Monica agreed, attempting to facilitate the release of his emotions. She knew it would be better for him to get his feelings off his chest rather than store them up for years like men were prone to do.
"Or worse… What if she wants to take Michelle away from me?" Chandler speculated. "Or tries to use her as blackmail to get me to do what she wants?! You heard how she said she wanted us to be a family again! I don't want to lose you, but I can't lose my daughter either!" he cried, his voice tinged with panic, "Mothers always win in child custody cases! If she tried to take Michelle, I, what would I do? I can't live without my daughter!"
"Shh, honey, slow down, breathe," Monica told him, taking deep breaths and encouraging him to do the same, "Everything is going to be fine. None of those things has happened yet. You might not even see her again. Calm down and play it as it comes, okay? Whatever happens, we'll figure it out together. You are not going to lose Michelle. That little girl adores you. You're the best parent she could ask for and she knows it, as does everyone else that knows the two of you."
Chandler sighed deeply, forcing his panic back down, "Thank you. I'd be a complete basket case by now, without you. You know that?"
"Oh, I know," Monica informed, matter-of-factly. "Don't worry. As long as you want to, you'll always have me," she promised.
They were interrupted from further conversation when Michelle burst into the room still in her pajamas, bounding onto the bed, snuggling herself in between them.
Chandler sighed, whispering to Monica, "At least it's not four in the morning!" Monica laughed, playfully tugging on Michelle's dark pigtail, in welcome, causing her to giggle.
Once the little girl was nestled between her father and Monica, effectively separating them from one another, she settled comfortably on her back, and looked up at them curiously, wondering, "Is Monica in trouble, Daddy? I heard you yelling from my bedroom!"
Chandler smiled at her uneasily. "No, sweetie," he assured her, "Monica isn't in trouble. Monica and Daddy are fine. Daddy was just upset about something that happened yesterday. Adult stuff you don't need to worry about, okay?"
"Okay," Michelle agreed, "Can I have ice cream for breakfast? I's hungry."
"How about I make you breakfast, sweetie," Monica suggested, "We can leave Daddy some time by himself, huh?"
"You always make it healthy!" Michelle grimaced, "Can't Daddy make it? He always makes sure it's got lots of sweet!"
"Daddy's not feeling very good today, Mishi," Monica explained gently, standing up and settling Michelle on her hip as she did, "So we're going to give him some time by himself, okay?"
"Okay," Michelle agreed reluctantly, "Does he have a tummyache?"
"No, sweetie," Chandler assured her, "I'm fine. I just need to think about some things. That's all."
"Is that why you were yelling?" Michelle wondered curiously.
Chandler shrugged sheepishly, answering, "Yes. But just because Daddy did it doesn't make it nice, okay?"
"Okay," Michelle agreed distractedly, her interest in the topic waning and returning to her impending hunger. "Can we have pancakes? With maple syrup?" she asked Monica sweetly, offering her most angelic smile in an attempt to sway her decision.
"You're just like your Daddy, you know that?" Monica told her, as she began walking them towards the door, "I've never met two people who like pancakes as much as you two do! How about we have blueberry buckwheat pancakes? They're healthy and yummy."
"Would Daddy like them?" Michelle wondered, glancing at her father. Chandler nodded and smiled at her, making a face at Monica that demonstrated his objection to her healthy choice, as soon as his daughter turned her back. Monica shook her head. "Okay!" Michelle nodded. Monica echoed the word back to her and shut the door behind them as they exited the room. As she left she shot a brief reassuring smile at her boyfriend.
As soon as he was alone in the room, Chandler flopped back on the bed and sighed. He closed his eyes and tried futilely to concentrate on one of his many swirling thoughts. He could hear Michelle giggling in the kitchen, even through his bedroom door. If only she knew. He wished he had all of her childish innocence. She was so happy… she had no idea her entire world just might be on the brink of chaos. It wasn't fair. He had been happy, too, until Mary Angela had come back and demanded things she had no right asking of him. He wished he was still that oblivious.
He hated that he still cared about her after three years of abandonment and thousands of miles apart. As much as he feigned contempt in front of Monica and the others, she still meant a great deal to him. She was Michelle's mother after all. As much as he hated what she had done, he would love her for that, always. She had been his first real love. But there were so many other things to consider that he wasn't sure he could forgive. He hated that she was making him doubt the stability of his relationship with Monica. Monica was so sweet and amazing and would be a perfect stepmother to Michelle if given the chance. All their friends seemed to think they were on the road to marriage, and he had, too, but… he was suddenly doubting whether that was for the best. If there was a chance for Michelle to have both her mother and her father… wouldn't that be what she wanted? What was best for her?
He loathed himself for thinking it, but Mary Angela had looked amazing, more beautiful then she ever had when they were married. The few years they had spent apart had treated her very well. He wondered how she thought he had changed over the years, whether the changes were for better or for worse. He shoved the thought away, feeling guilty for even caring. He loved Monica and couldn't hurt her. He didn't care about Mary Angela any more.
She was in the past and it was going to stay that way.
xx
Chandler had taken the day off of work, knowing that he wouldn't be able to concentrate on anything except for the situation with Mary Angela. Monica had been extremely understanding and had even offered to drop Michelle off at kindergarten on her way to work. The fact that she had been so good about his bad mood and lingering thoughts made him appreciate her all the more.
When the doorbell rang he wasn't sure why he bothered answering the door. He wasn't really in the mood to deal with any of his friends. He knew they all knew what had happened between him and Mary Angela and their curiousity was the last thing he needed.
To his dismay he was confronted with the person who was at the root of all his problems. "What are you doing here, Mary Angela?" he groaned, leaning heavily against the doorframe, holding the door close to his body, so she couldn't enter.
"I had to apologize, Chandler! I'm sorry I hurt you. And I'm sorry I scared you by saying what I did… but it was all true. Of all the things in my life that I regret, hurting you is the thing I regret the most. If you think there's the slightest chance we can make this work-"
"Don't. Just don't," he interrupted, coldly, "How did you even get my address?"
"I got it from Daddy," she told him shyly, "He advised me to come talk to you. He said you and Monica weren't very serious, and that he thought we just needed to talk things through."
"Why does that bastard hate me so much?" Chandler muttered under his breath, answering hostilely aloud, "Your father was wrong. I'm not going to work out anything with you. So, if you'll excuse me," he moved to close the door, but she stopped him.
"Chandler, please, I'm sorry!" she pleaded, "Just hear me out?"
"Why should I?" he questioned, glaring at his ex-wife, "It's not like you've given me a reason to do you any favours!"
"Because I love you!" she said, looking at him beseechingly.
"Well I don't love you anymore! I'm in love with Monica. We," he gestured between them, "are over and have been since the day you gave up on us. I'm in love with Monica. I can't hurt her. I can't."
"But what about us bumping into one another like we did?" she implored, "It was fate telling us this is our second chance!"
"Fate?" Chandler huffed sarcastically, "It was your brother's wedding! My bestfriend! What are the chances we'd see one another?" he rolled his eyes, pretending to be deep in thought, "You're right it must have been destined!" She looked downcast, but Chandler didn't care, "What are you expecting me to do? Jump up and down in excitement? This," he gestured between them, again, "isn't as easy as you seem to want it to be!"
"I know that!" Mary Angela exclaimed, "I never thought it would be easy! I wish it was," she sighed, "Just answer one question for me and I promise I won't bother you anymore," He nodded reluctantly, knowing he wouldn't like the question that was to follow.
After a pause, she stared boldly into his eyes and asked, "Do you still love me?" Chandler stared at her open-mouthed for a few moments, unable to answer, he eventually averted his eyes and shrugged. Mary Angela told him, compassionately, "I think we both know what that means. Don't give up on us. We have history! A daughter. Don't you want Michelle to have her family? We could raise her together, like we were meant to!"
"I don't know what you want from me," he told her.
"I just want you," she returned. "I know this is a lot to think about. But I also know you still love me. I can see it in your eyes. They haven't changed a bit. They're still the most beautiful blue in the world… and it kills me, because in them I can see how much you're hurting and I know it's my fault," she paused, her voice choked as tears threatened. "Just... consider us, okay? You don't have to decide right now. I'm living in the city. I've been trying to work up the courage to see you. Now that I have, I'm not giving up so easily," she promised. "Remember how we used to say we were soulmates? I've never believed that as strongly as I do now," she said, her voice full of confidence, "We just hit a detour, is all."
Chandler avoided her eyes, trying to hide his shaky breathing and the fact that she had stirred his feelings. Attempting to make his voice sound strong and sure, he commanded coldly, "I think you should go now, Mary Angela." She nodded, and pressed a card into his hand, as she reached to kiss his cheek. He stood rigid as she did. Only after she had disappeared down the stairwell and he could no longer hear her retreating footsteps did he close the door. He leaned against it heavily, sliding down to sit at the base of it, before glancing at the card in his hand.
Hardly aware of what he was doing, he flipped the card absently between his fingers, staring at it blankly for several minutes, before the tears that had welled had dried enough that the words were no longer blurry.
The first thing he noticed was her long, elegant script. They had always joked how un-Tribbiani-like her handwriting was. She really did have very pretty writing. It wasn't until he'd recognized it again that he realized how much he had missed it in the first place.
She had scrawled the name of their restaurant on the back along with the next night's date, and the time 8:30. He remembered all the times they had been there, vividly. When they came up to New York from LA, to visit relatives, they always made a point to take a moment to themselves and dine there, even after Michelle had been born. It was a tiny Italian eatery that Mary Angela had loved when she was younger. She raved about it and eventually dragged him there to see for himself. He'd fallen as in love with it as she had.
His eyes brimmed with tears again, distorting the words on the card.
xx
Thanks for reading :)
I was hoping to have this series done by Christmas, but not sure it's going to be possible anymore. We still have 5 or so chapters to go. I returned to my job for winter break yesterday, and I have an exam coming up that I have to study for. So I'm going to have less time to be writing and updating.
But review, anyway, and make my day, please :) They made the button bigger for a reason. So you'll click it :P
Oh, and thank you for helping me reach 100 reviews! Yay! :)