Listen To Your Heart - Chapter Seventeen
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"Hi," Monica repeated flatly, staring solemnly at her boyfriend's ex-wife, unsure how to react to her sudden re-appearance after the threat that had been issued hours previous.
"Hi!" Michelle chorused, in a more friendly tone, unaware she was addressing her mother.
Opting to ignore Monica's coldness for the time-being, Mary Angela turned to the four-year-old, a forced smile on her face, "Hi Michelle! Do you remember me? From Uncle Joey's wedding? I'm Angie, Daddy's friend?" Monica scoffed audibly at the description of Mary Angela as a 'friend'.
Michelle frowned, her face scrunched up as she struggled to remember. After a moment of thought she shook head. "Nope."
The hurt on Mary Angela's face was obvious. She quickly forced a small smile, and replied, "Well I used to know your Daddy a long time ago, when you were a baby."
"When I was a baby?" Michelle asked in awe, unable to comprehend such a lengthy period of time, "That's a long time ago! I'm four now!" She held up four fingers proudly.
Mary Angela smiled wistfully, responding in a soft, barely audible voice, "I know." She forced away her nostalgic thoughts and added cheerfully, "I like your outfit!"
Michelle grinned. "It's my Elmo towel! Me and Mon just did bathtime! I got to play with Daddy's boat! So I'm clean now!"
Mary Angela couldn't help but laugh. "That sounds like fun."
"Yep!" Michelle agreed with an exuberant nod, "Monica does good bathtimes."
Monica, who had been quiet up until this point, shifted Michelle onto her other hip, and made her presence known, her tone to Mary Angela a little harsher than she intended in front of Michelle, "As touching as this little reunion is, it's Michelle's bedtime. If you'd like to come in, Mary Angela, you can take a seat on the couch, and after I get this little munchkin," she poked Michelle, who giggled, "to bed, I'll be right with you." In the face of Monica's irritation, Mary Angela was unable to mount the courage to protest and agreed meekly, stepping through the threshold and following Monica to the couch.
Once Mary Angela was seated, Monica turned to Michelle informing her in a much sweeter voice than she had used towards Mary Angela, "Let's go get you ready for bed, huh?"
"Okay!" Michelle agreed. "Can I wear the hippo PJs and will you read me Love You Forever?" she questioned, hopefully.
"No problem, honey," she agreed. She turned to Mary Angela questioningly. "You don't mind, do you?" she asked, her tone suggesting Mary Angela had no choice but to agree.
Mary Angela smiled tightly. "No problem. Goodnight, sweetie," she added, in Michelle's direction. Monica frowned at the term of endearment, and Mary Angela's obvious attempt to insert herself into Michelle's bedtime ritual.
Michelle, oblivious to the tension, responded back, equally friendly, "Night, night!" as Monica whisked her off to her bedroom.
Mary Angela watched them go, silently. Once they had disappeared into the little girl's bedroom, inadvertently leaving the door ajar, Mary Angela stood, unable to resist moving closer so she could hear Monica and Michelle interact. She peeked carefully through the small crack, desperate to witness how this woman she hardly knew had managed to capture her husband's and daughter's hearts. She could felt the familiar pangs of jealousy searing her insides.
"Let's get off Elmo, and put on some jammies, okay?" she heard Monica ask, the sound of swishing cloth following as she presumably unfolded a pair pajamas for the little girl to wear.
"Mon!" Michelle squealed in response, shaking her head vigorously, "I said I wanted to wear the hippos! Those are elephants!"
"Oh, so they are!" Monica laughed. Mary Angela could hear Monica shuffling in a drawer, clearly hunting for the requested pyjamas. "I guess I should let you pick out your own clothes, huh? You know your animals better than me!"
"Yep!" Michelle giggled, "We learned animals in school! I know all the sounds they make, too!"
"Yeah?" Monica asked, "What sound does an elephant make?" In the small sliver of space that Mary Angela could see, she could just make out Michelle waving her arm like a elephant's trunk, her child-like interpretation of an elephant's trumpet filling the room.
Monica laughed as she threaded the little girl's legs through her pajama pants. "Very good, sweetie. Now lift up your arms so I can put your jammie top on, okay?" Mary Angela watched, as Michelle obeyed immediately, sticking her hands as high up into the air as she could stretch them.
"Are you trying to touch the stars?" Monica teased.
"I can't even get up to the ceiling!" Michelle giggled.
"The way you're growing like a weed, you'll be able to reach soon enough," Monica claimed, "You're just getting too big too fast! What are your Daddy and I going to do when you get big enough to go off to college?" Even through the barrier of the door, Mary Angela could make out her reflective tone.
"You and Daddy both say that! I'm growing good! Not too fast!"
"You're right, honey," Monica agreed, "We've got some time left with you, yet!"
"Yep!" Michelle agreed, "I'm not going to move out until I's at least ten."
"Ten, huh?" Monica laughed, "Good to know. Turn around, hon, so I can brush your hair." Mary Angela watched as the little girl turned, not even flinching as Monica brushed out her long damp hair. A sudden memory of 10-month-old Michelle crying bloody murder when she pulled out a knot in her baby fine hair shot into memory. She winced, forcing the thought away.
Her hair brushed, Michelle bounced off the bed. Mary Angela's heart skipped a beat, thinking the little girl was bounding towards the door but she stopped before reaching it, standing in front of her bookshelf. She plucked a book off the little shelf, carrying it back to her bed, where Monica was seated. Monica helped her under the covers, tucking them around her, before settling down next to her, opening the book.
Before Monica could start to read, Michelle called out, "Wait!"
"What's wrong?" Monica asked, her tone noticeably concerned. Mary Angela paused, tears unwittingly come to her eyes. It was touching to see how much Monica cared about Michelle… even though she wasn't her biological child.
"I can't go to sleep without Shell!" Michelle wailed. Mary Angela listened, unprepared for the nostalgic wave that the mention of the stuffed turtle she had given her baby daughter sent washing over her.
"Okay, let's look around," Monica suggested pragmatically, "He couldn't have left your room."
"Okay," Michelle sniffed, obviously upset at the thought of being unable to locate her stuffed friend.
After a search they eventually managed to locate him, from what Mary Angela could hear, underneath the bed. Through the crack she could make out Michelle grinning in relief, hugging the turtle tightly. She smiled at the sight, pleased to know something she had given her daughter was so meaningful to her. "I's not gonna lose him again."
"That's a good idea, sweetie," she heard Monica agree.
"Mon?" Michelle asked, her voice brimming with the curiousity of a child, "Where do Shells come from?"
Mary Angela held her breath as she watched, wondering what Monica would say, Did she even know that Shell had been a gift to Michelle from her mother? She was surprised when Monica answered, carefully, "Well, honey, when you were a little baby, and you had a Mommy, she gave you Shell."
"Why?"
"Because she loves you very much, and she knew that Shell would make a good friend for you, and so you could have someone to cuddle with and keep you safe when you sleep," Monica explained. Mary Angela blinked several times, fighting away tears, unprepared to believe that Monica would be so generous to her memory after what she had done. Michelle really did come first with her. If Monica was willing to put her misgivings aside and make peace for Michelle's sake… why couldn't she?
"Oh," Michelle nodded as if that made perfect sense, "Okay." After a short pause, she asked, "Where'd she go?"
"Your Mommy?" Monica asked, delaying the inevitable line of questioning. Michelle nodded. "Well, sweetie, sometimes Mommies get lost. That doesn't mean that they don't love you lots and lots." Mary Angela smiled at the explanation. Monica really was a natural with her daughter. She wondered if Monica was like that with all children, slightly envious.
Michelle frowned, looking at Monica curiously, "Mommies are big, like you and Daddy. How do they get lost?"
Monica laughed, "That's a good question, sweetie. I'm not sure," quickly adding to distract her, "Hey, are you ready to read your book, now?"
"Yep!" Michelle agreed, snuggling down into her bed, Shell tucked snuggly into her arms.
Monica smiled briefly at the adorable sight and began to read, "A mother held her new baby and very slowly rocked him back and forth, back and forth," she began, in a soft voice. Mary Angela listened to her tell the story, her voice melodic and comforting – the perfect lullaby. She was the perfect mother figure.
As the book drew to a close, Monica's voice softened further, assumedly because Michelle was on the verge of falling asleep. "I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living, my baby you'll be." Mary Angela heard the flutter of pages as Monica closed the book, watching through the crack as she leaned to kiss Michelle on the forehead, whispering a final goodnight.
Hearing Monica's quiet footsteps heading for the door, Mary Angela made a mad dash towards the couch, plastering an indifferent expression on her face, tapping her foot impatiently in an effort to seem bored. No sooner had Mary Angela put on the façade than Monica exited the room, closing the door gently behind her.
The two women stared at one another for a short moment, before Monica spat irritated, "I can't believe you. I can't believe you'd have the nerve to show your face here after what you did! You know what! Let me just go wake up Chandler, so you can talk. The sooner you leave, the better."
Mary Angela shifted uncomfortably. "Um, could you wait a minute? I wanted–"
"No," Monica spat, her fists balled angrily, "You don't get to ask anything! After what you did, you're damn lucky I even let you in! If Michelle wasn't sleeping in the next room…" she trailed off, leaving the threat empty.
"No, um, I meant, you don't have to do that. Go get Chandler, I mean," Mary Angela explained meekly, her stance timid in the face of Monica's anger, "I kind of wanted to talk to you."
Monica paused, already mid-way to her boyfriend's bedroom, and turned the face the other woman, her arms crossed, "Fine! I'm listening. Though I can't imagine what you could have to tell me that I'm going to want to hear!"
"I was jealous," Mary Angela blurted out, her words overlapping the end of Monica's sentence.
Monica exhaled loudly in anger. "That is the most stupid, selfish, bratty thing I've heard! You are a horrible person! Do you know what you've done to Chandler by threatening to sue for custody? Do you have any idea – even the slightest – how much Michelle means to Chandler?"
"I, uh- yes, I know. I was –" Mary Angela stuttered, fumbling to explain herself.
"No you don't!" Monica spat angrily, not willing to hear excuses, "Or you wouldn't be doing this!"
"It was never about Michelle," Mary Angela attempted to explain, again, "She's my daughter and I care about her–"
"You have a really funny way of showing that!" Monica interrupted, "You don't deserve to call yourself her mother anymore!"
Mary Angela sighed in frustration, torn between being angry and relenting. Neither option seemed appealing. "I telling you I know!" she growled, "Will you let me talk?!"
Monica seemed taken aback by her raised voice, since Mary Angela had been nothing but timid up until that point. She narrowed her eyes, warningly, but agreed with a curt nod.
"I know I was a bitch," Mary Angela began, "And I know it doesn't make it right, but I'm sorry," she paused, attempting to drum up the courage to admit what had been bothering her, "I saw you with Chandler and Michelle… and they both love you so much. Watching, it was like they didn't need me. And why would they? They have you! You're me, but ten times better, and they know that. And that hurts, okay? I guess I just wanted to make them need me again."
Monica's eyes softened marginally at the admission. She knew a little about not feeling 'good enough'; it was a feeling her mother had made her all-together too familiar with. However… "That's no excuse for what you did!" Monica countered, "And are still doing, may I add!"
"No. I'm not," Mary Angela sighed. "That was wrong me of me to do. I'm not asking for forgiveness, not that I think you'd give it, but… when Joey told me how Chandler broke down, after what I did… it hurt me, right here," she held her hand to her heart, "And I realized it was my fault. It was a wake up call. I was hurt and I was being a stubborn bitch because of it. That wasn't fair to anyone else."
"What are you saying?" Monica ventured, hesitantly, unwilling to jump to conclusions, only to have her hopes shattered.
"I've decided not to sue Chandler for custody," she said quietly.
"Oh," Monica said, dumbly, half-believing it was a cruel joke.
"Joey made me realize that Michelle belongs with Chandler." Mary Angela swallowed a heavy lump in her throat, "And you. In spite of what you may or may not believe, I really do love Chandler and I want what's best for him. And right now, that's you. I want him to be happy. I thought, maybe, he could be happy with me," her eyes welled with tears, "but that's just not the way it worked out."
Monica remained silent, not quite sure what to do with the admission. After all the yelling and hurled insults, 'thank you' seemed trite. She finally settled on: "What about Michelle?"
"I, um, I still want to see her sometime, maybe get to know her a little." Mary Angela half-asked, half-stated, her voice hesitant, "but she belongs with Chandler. Maybe we can work out a monthly schedule or something? I can be her Auntie Angie," she suggested, her tone overly bright at the suggestion. Her eyes told a different story. "It might not be a good idea for her to know I'm her," she glanced up at Monica carefully, "you know," she said, surreptitiously. The word 'mother' suddenly seemed laced with far too much meaning.
"Yeah," Monica agreed, softly.
"For what it's worth… I really am sorry," Mary Angela explained, seeming genuinely apologetic, "I hope you're happy with Chandler. I mean that sincerely."
Monica smiled half-heartedly at her, understanding how hard it must have been for her to say. She really did seem genuinely sorry. The both were quiet, an awkward silence filling the air. Monica hooked a thumb over her shoulder pointing to the room where Chandler was resting, "Would you, um, like me to go get Chandler, so you can tell him?"
"No," Mary Angela said quietly, "That's okay. I don't think he'd enjoy seeing me right now, anyway. I trust you'll handle it and do the right thing. Better than I would." 'Like everything else,' she thought with a self-depreciating smile, the images of Monica putting Michelle to bed floating unconsciously through her mind. The images served as a final nail in the coffin. She was doing the right thing.
"Oh, okay, then," Monica nodded awkwardly.
"I guess I should get going," Mary Angela said awkwardly.
Monica nodded, following her to the door.
Mary Angela slung her bag over her shoulder, half-smiling at Monica awkwardly. "Well, bye, then."
Before she could leave, Monica tapped her on the shoulder. Leaving the situation like this and saying nothing, now, seemed almost rude. Willing the words to come, Monica sputtered, "I – uh, um, thanks. Chandler and I really appreciate–"
"You don't have to say that," Mary Angela sighed, "It was my fault, not yours. I shouldn't have done it in the first place. My big brother was right. If I tried to sue for custody, Chandler would have won, hands down. It's better this way. I should be thanking you."
"Me?" Monica asked, incredulously.
"For making them happy," Mary Angela explained. "I saw you with Michelle, tonight," she admitted, knowing Monica would understand the significance of the statement.
"Oh," Monica said, unprepared for the compliment, from someone who less than an hour ago had deemed her 'the competition.'
Impulsively, Mary Angela reached to hug her. The friendliness of the gesture was beyond comprehension mere hours ago. But now… dare she say, it almost seemed… nice? Before Monica realized what was happening, Mary Angela had released her, and disappeared out the door.
Staring at the open door slack-jawed, Monica shook her head, in an attempt to shake off the surreal feeling of the past ten minutes. Had Mary Angela actually hugged her? And complimented her? Weren't they sworn enemies?
Deciding it didn't matter, as long as everyone was happy, Monica closed the door, locking it behind her, a huge grin spreading across her face. She flopped into the couch happily, fighting the urge to cry out in pure joy. She smiled dumbly at the blank TV for a moment, contemplating the last few moments before realizing that Chandler didn't know what had happened, yet. She couldn't stand another moment of him not knowing that he was not in jeopardy of losing his daughter, sleeping or not.
She slipped into Michelle's room quickly, to make sure she was slumbering peacefully, content to find the little sound asleep, a hand tucked under her pillow, a peaceful expression on her face. Unbeknownst to her, the world of the adults around her was once again stable. Monica plucked Shell off of the floor where he had fallen, as was the nightly ritual, and tucked him back into the bed with Michelle, kissing her lightly on the forehead so as to not wake her and exited the room, intent on sharing the good news with her boyfriend.
She rushed into his bedroom, the beaming smile never leaving her face. She crawled onto her side of the bed, careful not to bounce enough to wake Chandler. She wanted to meet his eyes as soon as he opened them. She wanted to stare into them as she told him what had happened, and see the relief in them firsthand. She lay down on her side, opposite him, so they were eye to eye.
Even in his sleep, his expression showed discontent. 'Not for much longer,' she thought, gently running a hand through his hair to rouse him. After a few moments he murmured something inaudible and shifted, his eyes squinting open blearily.
"Mon?" he mumbled, his voice rough and sleepy "What's wrong?" he wondered, in response to her waking him. He glanced at the clock, the bright green numbers declaring it was 9:17. "Why am I asleep?"
Monica simply grinned at him, unsure how to start. Chandler grinned back after a moment, unconsciously, wondering dumbly what was going on. "Nothing's wrong," she said eventually, "In fact, everything is great. And, you were asleep because you were tired. Do you remember what happened today?"
Given a moment to let the blurriness of sleep wash away, Chandler nodded solemnly. "Yeah. Mary Angela is suing me for custody of Michelle," he explained, running a hand across his day-old stubble wearily, adding solemnly, "Nothing 'great' about that. So what's up?"
"That's just it," Monica smiled, "While you were sleeping, she came by–"
He should have been able to read the good news on Monica's face, but the combination of frustration and resentment he felt towards his ex-wife clouded it. "She did? She has some audacity showing her face here after what she's done," he began, his tone short.
"Honey," Monica said, shaking her head, and placing a finger to his lips stopping him from saying anything else, "Don't." He stopped, and looked into her eyes, questioningly. "She's dropping the case."
"What?" Chandler asked in disbelief, jolting into a sitting position, unsure he had heard right.
Monica sat up to face him, as well. "She's decided not to pursue a custody battle," Monica expanded, "It's over, sweetie."
"Just like that?" he asked, sounding like a little child needing reassurance.
Monica nodded. "Just like that."
Chandler finally allowed a small smile to cross his face. "Why?" he wondered, "And why would she talk to you about it instead of me?"
"I'm not really sure, honey," Monica shrugged, "But from what she said, I think she saw me as trying to take her place in your life and Michelle's and was hurt. She was expecting to find you and Michelle exactly as she left you. The actual reality was a wake up call. She wanted things to be the way they were, so she needed me out of the way. I was the person she was really trying to get to, not you, or Michelle. She was just lashing out… and I guess something Joey said triggered something in her, and she realized how much she was hurting you and Michelle in the process of trying to get what she wanted."
"Really," Chandler stated, doubtfully.
Monica grinned at his disbelief, "Yes, really. I think she's finally accepted 'us,'" she gestured between them, "honey. And we're good. We're really good."
Chandler nodded, a small smile on his face, "Yeah, we are good. This is all just so surreal! Are you sure I'm not dreaming? I go to sleep, and everything is up in the air. I wake up, and everything's right again!"
Monica grinned wider, "Unless I'm dreaming, too, you're definitely awake. Though if we are dreaming, this would be as good a dream as I've ever had."
Chandler smiled back and reached to kiss her gently, adding, "Me too. I still can't believe Angie went to you with this! She seemed to hate you."
Monica shrugged, "Maybe that's why? Maybe she felt like she needed to make peace with me on a personal level? And you know what? If that was her goal, I think she succeeded."
"Yeah?" Chandler questioned curiously, "What gave you that impression?"
"Well, some of the things she said. She mentioned that she watched me put Michelle to bed… and, I don't know, just something in her voice, made me think, maybe, she was okay with it. I don't know, maybe I'm crazy."
"You're not crazy, sweetie." Chandler sighed happily, falling back onto the bed, pulling Monica with him, resting her head against his shoulder, playing with her hair, twirling it between his fingers. "I can't believe it's all over just like that. No more Mary Angela."
Monica shifted in the circle of his arms, slightly uncomfortable, "Well, not exactly… I think she still plans to see Michelle, sometimes, even if not as 'Mommy.' You are okay with that, aren't you?" she asked worriedly, "I mean Mary Angela is still her mother, don't you think she deserves that?"
Chandler sighed. "I guess… before this custody thing happened, once the dust had settled and the shock of her return had worn off, I wouldn't have batted an eyelash if she had asked to see Michelle. Now… it's hard not to think of her as the enemy."
Monica nodded, "I understand that completely, sweetie. It's your decision, but I think it'd be good, for both of them. When Michelle starts to get older, she's gonna ask questions that we can't answer with 'the stork brought you.' Maybe having Mary Angela around, even if it's not as 'Mommy,' would make having to answer those questions, eventually, easier."
"Maybe," Chandler agreed, "But is that enough reason to expose my daughter to her? What if she gets attached and Angie leaves again?"
"Well, honey," Monica considered, offering rationally, "there's an element of risk involved. It's up to you to decide if it's worth it. I think she is genuinely sorry, though. I think that's why she may not have wanted to tell you directly. Having to see that she hurt you was hard for her, once she realized what she was doing, and how selfish her reasoning was. That's the impression I got, anyway. Trust me on this one. Call it womanly instinct."
"You know I trust you, baby," he whispered, smiling into her eyes.
She smiled back, "I know. And I love you, you know that? No matter what happens."
Chandler nodded, a sentimental smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, "You know I know that. And you know I love you, too, right?"
Monica grinned back, "Of course."
"Good."
After a few moments of comfortable silence, spend holding one another, Chandler added, "I can't wait until you're living here with us. It's going to be perfect," he sighed.
Monica nodded in agreement, "It'll be nice to not have to leave. I hate the mornings I wake up alone, now. I've gotten so used to spending them with you."
"That's the best part of my day," Chandler admitted, "In the early mornings, when we first wake up, and we're both still too tired to get up, but not tired enough to fall back asleep, and we just hangout in bed, cuddle and talk, and sometimes fool around." He smiled sentimentally.
Monica laughed. "You are such a sap."
Chandler smiled. "You won't tell Joey, will you?"
"Trust me, honey, from what Rachel's told me, Joey is as much a sap as you are. I don't know why the two of you bother going through the effort of pretending to be all tough and manly."
"It's a pride thing," Chandler explained, "Do you tell Rachel everything?"
Monica grinned. "Not everything. We've gotta have some secrets. She does know that I convinced you to wear my underwear to work one day, though," she said with a straight face.
Chandler gasped in shock at the admission, offended, "I cannot believe you told her that! How am I supposed to face her tomorrow knowing she knows that?"
Monica couldn't suppress her laugher any more. "Just kidding!" she laughed, "You should have seen your face!"
Chandler rolled over on top on Monica, "I can't believe you would do that! That's just mean! You owe me."
Monica smiled up at him seductively, running a finger down his chest, "Is that so? What can I do for you, Mr. Big?"
Chandler's grin threatened to split his face. "I can think of a few things," he said slyly, kissing her neck gently. Monica allowed him to bestow the affection upon her, running her fingers through his hair, gently.
After a few heated minutes, she called out, "Wait! I need to change into my nightclothes!"
"What? Now?" Chandler growled, unhappy with the sudden turn of events. They were so close… "You need to change clothes now?" he whined, "You know you're just going to take them off, again, right?"
Monica pouted. "You're no fun. I just wanted to wear something lacy," she claimed, persuasively.
Chandler sighed and nodded, tempted. "Fine," he agreed, watching as his girlfriend rolled out of bed, heading for his dresser, several drawers of which were stuffed with her clothes. In an orderly fashion, of course. He would expect nothing less of Monica.
Conscious of Chandler's hungry eyes on her, Monica removed her clothes slowly, undoing buttons and clasps at a leisurely pace, teasing him. Knowing Chandler was watching, she felt tingly and warm all over, in spite of the chill she should have felt after removing her garments. Smiling at him mischievously over her bare shoulder, she pulled a lacy black negligee out of the dresser, holding it in front of her body, "How about this one?"
Chandler shrugged, trying to remain nonchalant, as if watching his girlfriend debate over bedtime attire in the nude wasn't a huge turn on. "It's okay," he said casually, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, as he tried to glimpse her body behind the sheer cloth.
Not satisfied with the faux lukewarm response, Monica tried again, holding up a red satin negligee in front of herself instead, "How about this one?"
Chandler's façade cracked a fraction as he ogled. He shrugged, offering as casually as he could muster, his voice cracking anyway, "It's nice." Monica dropped the garment she was covering herself with a few inches, allowing Chandler to glance more bare skin, knowing before she did the effect it would have. She would win the little game she started at all costs. It wasn't cheating… it was persuasion.
Chandler sighed at the sight, unable to resist her torture any longer. Why was he so weak? And why did she know all the right buttons to push? "Monicaaa!" he whined, "Can you please just pick something and come back to bed? Please?" he begged.
She shook her head, staring at him pointedly, so he added, "You look extremely sexy in everything. Like a goddess. Now?" he asked, hopefully.
Monica grinned and tossed the negligee aside carelessly, stepping towards bed, completely naked.
"I love it when you're messy," he teased, in reference to the discarded nightgown, pulling her into bed with him, before she could go back to store it neatly in the dresser. It was quickly forgotten, as Chandler kissed her. "You're cruel, you know that?" he groaned, once they pulled away and she was tucked underneath the covers with him.
"You know you love me," Monica pecking him lightly.
Chandler grinned back, wrapping his arms around her bare form, "I do. And I like your outfit of choice, too, by the way. It's very flattering on you."
Monica smile broadened, "I thought you would. Care to show me how much?"
"Hell yeah," Chandler agreed eagerly, all thoughts of Mary Angela and the day's events long since pushed out of his mind. He was with Monica, now, and happier than he could remember being in a long time. With Monica and his daughter in his life, he knew he had all he'd ever need to be happy.
Life was looking up.
xx
Yup. That's it! The end! Can you believe it? Over 100,000 words later, here we are :P I hope you all enjoyed this series as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Sorry for the delay, but this has been done for a while. Since the weekend, at least, but ffnet has been behaving very badly. The whole log-in portion of the site was frozen up for three days, straight.
I'm very strongly considering doing an epilogue :) Actually I'm pretty sure I will, so long as I can pull together the vague ideas I have for it in my head. Expect to see that in the next couple weeks or so. I've been quite busy recently, with work, since my return to university, so I haven't had much time for writing, and I miss it :P
Keep a lookout for a new story from me sometime soon, too :) I've decided on a story-idea and I'm super excited about getting to it.
Anyway, thanks for reading and please leave a review and make my day :)