The bravado Monica sat down with at the table started to wilt as the dinner drug on.
She didn't talk directly to him and he seemed to be ignoring her, refusing to make eye contact. And he never mentioned the job or LA, not once. She almost brought it up a couple times but was sidetracked by another question about the wedding, another suggestion about a theme for Ross and Rachel's nursery and once with a Joey story about his latest romantic conquest.
Chandler was quiet, throwing in a sarcastic comment here or there, but with less zeal than usual. When she did steal a glance at him he was looking down. So she stayed focused on whatever the conversation was - smiling and nodding at the appropriate times.
She was mad at herself, angry at him but most of all completely, utterly heartbroken.
It was just after 9 when Rachel said she was tired and the dinner party started to break up. Ross was relieved. The tension at the table was starting to give him a headache. It wasn't the same ebb and flow it had always been between the six of them. The dynamic was changing. Everything was changing.
He looked at Monica, then Chandler. They hadn't said two words to each other all night and that felt completely wrong, too.
"Hey, you're gonna make sure my sister gets back home safe, right?" Ross said, gesturing to Chandler.
"Yeah, you could share a cab," Rachel suggested, thinking that Chandler and Monica really needed to talk about this job. The tension between the two was obvious.
As Monica looked at Chandler, a brief flicker of panic crossed her face. Chandler took a deep breath and shrugged, "of course."
It made sense. They both lived on the same end of town. How would he explain that he was afraid of the conversation to follow if he shared a cab with her?
Monica, thinking the same thing, just nodded.
"Oh, guys, it's pouring," Phoebe said as the group made their way to the door.
After hugs and "goodbyes" were exchanged it took another five minutes for everyone to secure a cab.
Monica and Chandler entered the back seat of the taxi he'd hailed down. Monica gave the driver her address and immediately turned away to look out the window.
Chandler was drenched, but he didn't care.
The tension between them was as thick as a brick wall, and it was killing him.
He knew he had to say something if they were going to salvage anything.
"Monica…" he started, not sure where to begin but wanting her to look at him. "Mon?"
Fighting tears she closed her eyes and turned toward him slightly. She thought she knew what was coming and she didn't want to hear the words come out of his mouth.
He ran his hands through his wet hair.
He knew he had to let her know that he never intended to ruin her future with Richard.
"I'm sorry…" he began, stumbling over his words. "I'm sorry I put…you…us… in, ah, a…situation…that made you…ah…uncomfortable."
She opened her eyes and stared at the back of the seat in front of her. He cleared his throat.
"It was a one-time thing," he said, quietly. "Just a…momentary…lapse in judgment. Don't…don't worry about it."
She turned and stared at him.
"I…I know…what it…you shouldn't feel guilty, Mon," he stammered, not able to meet her eyes. "It's me. I should have stopped it…us."
He attempted a small, lopsided grin.
"Now I'm screwing up relationships I'm not even in," he said, desperate to lighten the mood, even slightly.
She didn't react, her brain trying to process that he just confirmed her worst fear.
He frowned and looked up at the ceiling of the cab. She returned her focus to the back of the seat in front of her.
A couple minutes that felt like forever passed by.
The thunderstorm raged around them - rain was pounding on the sides of the taxi. The windshield wipers were on high and the radio was playing Spanish music behind the plastic window in the front seat.
All Chandler heard was her silence.
"Monica, say something, please," he begged quietly.
She knew if she spoke, she'd cry. But they were so close to her building…and it was now or never.
"You're leaving," she said, her voice shaking.
"What?" he looked at her in surprise and confusion, not expecting that. "How…how did you…"
"I overheard…at the restaurant," she said, her voice thin, quivering. She turned and raised her eyes to his. "You are leaving, aren't you?"
A lump formed in his throat. She looked devastated, and he had been right before, he couldn't take that look from her. But there it was - plain on her beautiful face, shining from her bright blue eyes.
He blinked several times and croaked out "yes."
She whimpered and he thought he was going to lose it right then and there. His heart was in shreds. She closed her eyes and shifted again, resting her head on the back of the seat in front of her.
"Did it…that night …mean… anything…?" she managed to get out as tears now streamed down her face, landing on the faux leather she was leaning against. She didn't want to ask, but she had to know.
And it was his turn to stare at her.
He couldn't let her think that their one, perfect night together didn't mean anything to him. He wanted to, it would make it easier if she hated him. But she was upset he was leaving and he just couldn't hurt her any more.
His breathing started to come in short bursts and involuntarily he started shaking. He took a deep breath, trying to find words that could describe what exactly that night meant to him.
He could only find one.
"It meant…it meant…everything," he finally whispered. She looked at him then. His beautiful blue eyes were earnest and filled with tears. But the look on his face was crestfallen.
And she knew her old friend, the man she had just come to realize that she had been in love with for a long time, was going to tell her goodbye.
"You are getting married in one week," he said slowly, closing his eyes, using every ounce of intestinal fortitude he could to pull himself together. "You are marrying Richard and…and you sh-should. You should marry him. He…he can…give you the life you've always…wanted. He can…"
She couldn't take it anymore. She reached out for him and he pulled her to him, wrapping his arms tight around her. She clung to him, burying her head in his chest.
The cab started to slow down as they sat there, holding onto each other as if their lives depended on it.
Monica lifted her head off his chest, her hair damp where she'd pressed it against his wet shirt, and looked up at him. The cab pulled up to the curb and stopped. Chandler looked down at her and leaned in as a flash of lightning brightened up the dark sky around them.
And that's when he caught a glimpse of Richard getting out of the cab parked in front of them.
He froze.
"Richard…" he said.
"What?" she said, confused that he didn't kiss her. Confused that the moment was broken. He loosened his hold on her.
"He…um, just got out of the cab," he said, nodding in the direction of the car in front of them. "He's under the awning."
She tensed up and closed her eyes. Then she let him go.
"$22.50," the cab driver said.
With trembling hands Monica grabbed her purse.
"I'll…I'll get it at my stop," he said, gently putting his hand over hers.
She swallowed hard, breathing fast.
"Thank you," she said, her eyes questioning him.
He took a deep breath, looking down at his hand over hers. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
"I…I'll see you at the wedding," he whispered, taking his hand away.
If he'd punched her he couldn't have hit her harder.
She had her answer.
It might have meant everything, but he was leaving anyway.
She turned from him quickly and opened the door.
Seeing her exit the cab Richard came over to help her out.
"Hi honey!" he said. "Have a good time at dinner?"
She looked down and stepped past him.
He bent down and saw Chandler.
"Thanks for seeing her back safe," Richard said, thinly smiling at him.
Chandler didn't return his smile.
"Take good care of her," he said, looking him directly in the eye.
A mixed expression of confusion and contemplation crossed Richard's face.
"Of course," he said as he closed the cab door.
Richard gestured for Monica to come inside with him but she stood still in the rain.
"Are you OK?" he said, noticing that she had been crying. "Monica?"
She didn't respond.
"OK… I'm getting soaked," he said. He waited a moment and when she didn't acknowledge him he quickly ducked under the awning and into their building.
She wrapped her arms around herself as she watched the cab pull away, tears and rain mixing on her cheeks.
Chandler turned and looked out the back window. He saw her standing alone watching him leave.
He watched her figure grow smaller and more blurry.
Then he turned and stared straight ahead as tears silently fell down his cheeks and past his chin. He didn't even attempt to wipe them away.
###
Monica walked into Sturky's that Thursday right at noon. Their booth was empty.
"Hi!" Christy said brightly as Monica walked through the door. "I haven't seen you in a couple weeks."
Monica nodded as Christy turned to lead her to the booth along the window.
She didn't know what compelled her to come. She was certain he wouldn't be there, but her legs had carried her to the place she had been happiest, before her life had started to fall apart. She was numb now - living on autopilot.
She sat down.
"Can I get you anything while you wait for him?" Christy asked, smiling at her.
"Water," she said blankly. Christy nodded and walked away.
Monica looked out the window, toward the direction he would be coming from. For a brief moment she tried to pretend it was five weeks ago and he'd come in, looking great in his suit, and make her smile just by being there.
Then past the numbness and the fog she felt the pain and the tears start to form again. She could have sworn she was all cried out by now.
She wasn't.
"Here ya go!" Christy said setting down the water.
Monica shook her head and stood up.
"I'm sorry," she said, walking quickly past the waitress. "I have to go."
"Oh," Christy said, calling after her. "Do you want me to give him a message when he comes?"
Monica stopped but didn't turn around.
"He's not coming," she said and hurried out the door.
Chandler stopped in front of the diner as small white pedals from flowering trees cascaded slowly to the ground all around him.
He checked his watch - 12:11 p.m.
If she was going to be there she would have been there by now. He glanced up and saw two strangers sitting in their booth by the window.
He stared at the place they used to be - imagining Monica was there. Imagining her smiling at him as she saw him coming down the sidewalk.
One of the strangers in the window gave him a funny look.
He quickly turned away. Of course she wasn't there.
He slowly walked back towards his office, his heart feeling heavier in his chest with every step.
"Goodbye, Monica…" he whispered.
NOTE: I had James Blunt's "Goodbye, My Lover" playing in my head - literally and figuratively - the entire time I wrote the cab scene. And I know you're all about ready to track me down and make me sit in front of my laptop until I write happy things! Please just hang in there a little longer… :)