A/N: Hello, dearest readers! :) Yes, your eyes are not deceiving you! After the very long wait that spanned more than 5 months, I have written an update for Memories of You. :) I'm sorry for keeping you waiting for so long. :( I would like to thank you all very much for your incredible support for this story and for not giving up on me updating. ;) Thank you so much for your reviews, which came up even though I was on hiatus. As I have told you guys, I got busy with University stuff because I wrote my thesis, and I made through it. :) Although, I would still be very busy as I enter my last year in college. Wish me luck! :) I won't promise anything but I will do my very best to regularly update this story, as well as my other ones. It's my goal to finish all my stories, even if it takes me years. (Hopefully not that long, but I hope you'll still be there.)

Also, since it was so long ago that this story was updated, you might have forgotten some details, so I suggest that you re-read the previous chapters. :)

I won't prolong your agony further. Here you go!

Chapter 7

MONICA'S POV

He told me he loved me and it's the most amazing feeling in the world. You know how people say that saying "I love you." over and over would make it lose its meaning? I don't believe that. I think it's the opposite. I think it actually gives meaning - not in the sense where there's a technical definition for it. Saying "I love you", doesn't signify a single message in every moment it's been said. Love is unique for every person who believes in it. Sure, there have been thousands or maybe even millions of ways by which people tried to make sense of this four-letter word - seeking a common way of reference. Yet, not a single definition in this world can capture what love means to each one who says they feel that way about another person.

For so long have I tried to understand what is the meaning of what I have with Chandler, knowing that what we have is so complicated. And now, hearing those three words, and sensing the truth in it, it could never be clearer to me; it's just love - love in our special sense of the word. And that's the most important thing. I don't need to know why, when or how. I just know that I do, and he does too.

Chandler and I are having the best time of our marriage; at least from my fondest memory. We have finally reached a point where I can truly say that he enjoys being with me, given that the tension between us seemed to become less. It's not about physical intimacy, because that's not love. We connect in a stronger way, and I have now come to terms with what Chandler said were important in a marriage; honesty, trust and respect. Three things which we can work on when we have the fourth and most important thing; love. And knowing that we have it, I can say that only better things will come our way.

I look over his sleeping form, studying him for a moment. This is not the first time I have observed him in his dozing state, for I have done so during the earlier days of his hostility towards me. I now see a different Chandler; the expression on his face looking calm, soothed by the sweet escape of sleep. Far more relaxed than the flinching man I saw before. I softly caressed his hair, which made him budge a bit, nevertheless, I saw his lips curve into a small smile. He unconsciously drew closer to me and I felt him wrap his arms around me, before tapping one hand, seemingly searching for something. He then rested his hand on mine, lovingly squeezing it before intertwining our fingers together, in one perfect fit.

I have often thought of the life we left in New York; whether I was missing something great, whether it was so much better than the life we are having now. I thought about my family and resented not being able to talk to them, not having them around to help me get back to normal. I have always thought that I'm missing New York; my home, but I was wrong. Chandler is my home. Home is wherever he is, when he's with me. And now, feeling the love we share in between the warmth of his embrace, I know I am home.

I wake up the next day feeling energized more than ever. Chandler was still sleeping beside me, which was unusual on a work day. In our whole stay in this little town, he had always woken up long before me and I would be left with a little note on the table if he had already gone away. I decided to take the opportunity and cooked the best breakfast I could make.

"Good morning." I said gleefully at Chandler who just woke up, making little yawns and rubbing his eyes. I can't help but notice the obvious glimmer in the way he looked at me and how well-rested he look. "Good morning." He responded with an equally sweet smile. "Sleep well?" I asked him as I served him a plate. "Slept best." He responded. "I noticed." I said as I sat down and took a plate of my own. There's something very different about him that day. I see more of him now, and maybe it was a lot about the fact that he was now more open to me. It struck me how handsome he looked, with those gorgeous blue eyes and what surely was a picture-perfect smile. I can't believe I'm just realizing it now. And he's my husband. He's my handsome husband.

"These are really delicious, Juliet." He said. "Thank you. I made them extra special today. Coffee?" He just nodded. He looked over the clock on the nightstand and saw that he needed to head off for work. "Oh, I need to go now or I'll be late." He quickly stood up and grabbed one towel and headed straight for the bathroom. After five minutes, he came out just as I finished what I was writing on a small note. I slipped it inside the lunch box I prepared for Chandler. "Hey, don't forget to bring this." I handed him the box and he was a little surprised. "You made me lunch? Oh, you didn't have to. But, thanks Juliet." He said as he took it and placed it inside his bag. "I wanted to. And come on, you have to go now. You have a great day." I ended with a sweet kiss on his cheek. "You take care of yourself today." He responded back.

CHANDLER'S POV

I love her. It didn't matter who she is, I love her. I love Juliet. I love Monica. I love her with all my heart. And it scares me; it scares me to death. And I'm not even worried about myself. I have been perfectly aware of my situation, although sometimes it seemed like the opposite; I have reminded myself every day of the repercussions of my actions towards her, those mirroring the love that's growing inside my heart. I didn't mind being hurt, for I promised myself that I would be strong. I know it would kill every little piece of me, but I have willed myself into anticipating the day when I would have to let her go. All along I thought that I was ready.

I opened the lunch box she gave to me and I discovered something else. There was a folded note placed just on top of the carefully prepared sandwich. It said; "Read me."

"Thank you for loving me, My Handsome Husband.

I love you.

From: Your Juliet."

I found myself shed a tear, partly from happiness and mostly from guilt. In the midst of my struggle, Frank, one of my co-workers who became my friend, was snooping on the note I was reading and gave me a pat on the back. "Ooh, looks like the Mrs. got you a surprise. You're a lucky man, Chandler." I just nodded in agreement.

I know that when Monica knows the truth she would be hurt. Before, I have relied on the consolation that it is I, a stranger who'll hurt her. And maybe then, it wouldn't have struck as deep. She would have moved on easier. She would forget about me. She wouldn't even care. I would have brought her back to her old life where she belonged, and Juliet would simply vanish into thin air.

It's all my fault. I shouldn't have given away too much. I find it hard to believe - she loves me too. This is the worst thing that could happen at this time of my life, yet it was the one thing I wanted the most. She had fallen in love with me; maybe not as much as I've fallen for her, but it's there. I know she told me that before, those three little words, when I convinced her that we shouldn't 'remarry'. She immediately said that she loved me, and I asked her if she believed herself; if she loved me because she felt it in her heart, or if it is because she set it in her mind. She wasn't able to respond, and I held on hope that it was the latter; that it wasn't too late. That maybe she wouldn't be hurt as much as I feared she would be.

It shouldn't be this way; I, the man she loved, hurting her. I, of all people should know how devastating it is to be hurt by the person you love the most, even if it's not their fault. And it is my fault. It is my fault that she'll get hurt. I hate that I would not be able to do anything about it.

Maybe, I should follow Sam's advice. Maybe, waiting won't make a difference. Maybe, all the excuses I gave him were invalid. Maybe, I was just fooling myself. Maybe, there's no better way but tell the truth, for I'm just postponing the inevitable. Maybe, it's all a ruse I've made in my head to convince myself that there may still be real hope for us, when there can never be.

Before I went home, I got a call from my brother Sam.

"Chandler, you have to go home. Dad is missing you terribly. He hasn't even heard from you and he's getting worried. He hasn't seen you for months, and he's telling me that if you don't come home his heart won't be able to make it." My brother said nervously. True enough, spending a fortune on medications can't mend a broken heart, that which is not acquired physically, but emotionally.

It pains me that my father should also suffer out of all of this. I thought about it for a moment and figured that the only thing holding me back from going back is my fear of losing her. Now that the situation has gone out of control, I need to overcome that fear.

"Please tell Dad, I'm coming home." I simply replied.

"Oh Chandler, this is great. I honestly thought I would have to convince you. Dad will be so happy. But, what about Monica?" I hear the sense of relief in his voice.

"She should come home too." I said before saying my goodbye. I headed home to tell Monica the news.

"Chandler, I'm so happy we're going home. But at the same time, I'm sad because we're leaving this place...Do we really need to go?" We were laying down on our bed, getting ready to sleep. We were on our usual position; my arms wrapped around her with my chin just above her head and her arms on me, her hands occasionally rubbing my chest.

"We need to go back to New York. This isn't our world." It's true. The world I introduced to the Monica that woke up three months ago seemed like a fantasy world. It was too perfect.

"You know, now that I thought about it, I've come to a conclusion that God really works in mysterious ways. I mean, everything that's happened to us, at first, would seem like a very bad thing. But then, I realized that he gave me amnesia to forget about the bad memories so that I can make new, great ones with you. And I love the fact that we had this beautiful place to start our journey." Monica said with her eyes glistening with hope.

"It's great." I responded fondly, as I do not want to break her cheerful mood.

"It's gonna be hard to start over again, but I believe we can make it through. Because we're together my handsome husband, and that's the most important thing." She ended with a stroke on my cheek. I kissed her forehead and wished her a good night.

We'll be home soon.

A/N: Thank you very much! I would gladly appreciate your reviews. I missed writing this story and I missed your thoughts on our dear Chandler and Juliet. ;)

As for the story, I can tell you that there's still so much that will happen. I actually estimate this story to have at least 10 more chapters. More or less. So it's definitely not over.