"Oh Monica," her mom smiled, she was looking so proud that it was killing her inside. "I can't believe that this time tomorrow you'll be someone's wife. You know your Dad and I are so proud of you. Jack can't wait to walk his little girl down the aisle."

Monica swallowed, hard, this really wasn't helping her.

"Now let me give you some advice…"

"Mom," she almost begged, she had enough to deal with right now, "that's really not necessary."

"Marriage is not all fun, it's hard work," she continued despite the look on her daughter's face, "you need to listen to each other. Seek first to understand before trying to be understood. When you are wrong, say you're sorry. When you are right, shut up."

Monica looked down at the floor, her hands twisting with nervousness. She suddenly found herself thinking of the arguments over things that probably didn't matter with her and Pete. Her stomach flipped as Judy placed a hand on her shoulder, "and now, I'll tell you what my Mom told me. Don't tie a half-hitch knot. Plan to stay married forever."

She looked up at her, the last word echoing over and over again in her head.

Forever.

That was a long time.

Monica gritted her teeth, trying to force herself back to reality and focus on her mother, who was staring right back at her, "thanks mom," she grated, feeling that uneasy feeling in her stomach again.

Thankfully, she was saved by the phone and she excused herself, "Pete?" she asked, "where are you? The rehearsal is over and we'll be starting dinner soon and my mom is driving me crazy."

Phoebe listened, nudging Rachel to get her attention and gesturing towards the not so happy bride to be.

"You need to be here," she heard her voice crack slightly and swallowed. She needed to see him, needed that reassurance. "Can't you tell them it's your wedding tomorrow? That you have commitments?"

The girls shared a worried look.

"Ok, ok, yeah I know," she sighed heavily, "ok, yeah please hurry though." She disconnected the phone and stared at it a moment.

None of this was how she expected her rehearsal dinner to go.

"Are you alright?" she looked up to see Rachel and Phoebe and smiled gratefully, very glad to see them.

"I don't know," she admitted, "part of me says that I'm just being stupid and of course I want this and I should get over myself and just enjoy it and when Pete gets here I'll realize that."

"And the other part?" Phoebe prompted gently.

"Is questioning everything," she closed her eyes. "What do I do?"

Rachel rubbed her arms soothingly, "look the dinner is about to be served. Don't make any decisions now ok?" she suggested. "How about you sit down for a nice meal with your family and friends? Then when Pete gets here you can talk to him and work things out?"

Monica nodded thoughtfully, "ok, yeah...I can do that."

She thanked them as they guided her back into the small crowd. Behind her back the girls shared an uneasy look.

"How you holding up buddy?" Joey asked Chandler quietly, his eyes on the girls as they passed by.

He could see that something was still bothering Monica and was really hoping it was doubts over the wedding. He just needed to speak with Rachel or Phoebe and find out the latest developments. Until he knew for sure what was going on with her, it was his job to look after Chandler.

"I had to pretend to be the damn groom," Chandler grated out, his hand holding his forehead as he tried to rub away the tension. "How the hell do you think I'm doing?"

Joey winced and nodded, understanding his friend's mood. He just wished he could do more to help him. Joey had volunteered to be Jack thinking it would save Chandler from having to walk down the aisle with her. He hadn't realized Chandler would get dragged into playing an even worse part in the rehearsal.

"You did it though, man," he pointed out. "And you hid everything really well. I wouldn't have known."

Chandler nodded, accepting that was probably the most optimistic thing his friend could say given the situation. Reassure him that he was good at wearing his mask; good at hiding the pain that was slowly tearing him up inside. Great.

"Thanks," he finally offered, putting an appreciative hand on his arm for a moment before looking around and realizing that people were starting to move. "Let's just get this stupid dinner out of the way and then I can go home and…"

He didn't know what he'd do when he got home. Curl up in a ball? Drink himself stupid? Should he do something to mark the last night of being in love with Miss Monica Geller? Because tomorrow night she'd be Mrs Becker and he couldn't be in love with a married woman. He just couldn't.

"Come on," Joey patted his back and they joined the crowd.

Everyone took their seats around the long table, the several different conversations happening made the room incredibly loud. Monica pulled her chair at the head of the table to sit down, the uneasy feeling returning since the one next to her was still empty.

She sighed and looked over at Chandler, who was already looking back at her. He furrowed his brow at the look on her face, stepping closer to her so that she could hear him, "are you alright?"

Her blue eyes met his, and she swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. She studied his tired face, and remembered that she'd made a mental note to find out what was going on with him after the wedding. She wanted to pour all of her problems on him, tell him how she was feeling about this and maybe he'd help her through this thing she called pre-wedding jitters.

That's all it had to be, right?

But she couldn't pour any of this on him now. Not with the exhaustion on his face and the weird way he'd been acting lately. He truly was her crutch, the one that usually had the best way to fix something or a great shoulder to cry on.

Maybe it was time she stepped up and be the shoulder he needed.

"Mon, are you alright? What's wrong?" He asked again.

She stopped her internal debate, shaking her head in case he couldn't hear her answer, "nothing, I'm fine."

"Monica," his tone was warning, as if he didn't believe her.

She sighed, looking at him and adding a fake smile to her face, "I'm good," she told him, patting the side of his face gently and then cupping it with her hand, "are you good?"

It was her attempt at getting him to talk to her, even though the loud room around them was hardly the place, "I'm good," he said to her.

She finally moved her hand from his face when one of the waitresses tapped her on the arm, "Ms. Geller, we're ready to serve if you're ready?"

She sighed, reaching for Chandler's left wrist to look at the time on his watch. She couldn't keep everyone waiting to eat forever. She had to feed Joey soon or she knew his head would explode.

Monica glanced at the people near her and the empty seat. Her mother, Pete's parents, Pete's brothers. She needed someone to anchor her and keep her sane.

"Sit with me?" she asked quickly, quietly.

"Still no Pete?" he guessed, his eyes falling on the groom's vacant chair.

"No," she shook her head, suddenly desperate for some time with him. "Please?"

He studied her a moment; she didn't look as excited as a forthcoming bride should be, but that was understandable. She was probably missing her soon to be husband. He'd rather had sat with the others, somewhere nondescript where he could have just faded into the background, ignored the other guests, ignored the fancy food, ignored the speeches and try to ignore the whole evening. But with that sad tint to her eyes she gave him no choice.

He'd sacrifice his happiness for hers. She was the important one.

"Want me to be substitute Groom again?" he asked softly.

The grateful look she shot him almost made it worth it; almost, "would you mind?"

"No problem," he lied, still caught up in her eyes, "but that's twice today, the third time's chargeable."

She laughed and it was a beautiful sound.

"Thank you," she smiled gratefully again, her hand on his arm as she tugged him to his newly allocated chair and they sat down.

Chandler glanced around not knowing or wanting to know Pete's parents beside him. If it wasn't for them, Pete wouldn't have been born and Chandler's little world might not be so crappy. Regardless though, he offered them a tight polite fake smile...he was faking everything tonight, what was another one?

Monica felt uneasy again, looking around the room full of people expecting her to get married tomorrow. Her stomach twisted, the knot deepening. Even if she changed her mind, wanted to pull out could she? Could she really do it with all these people's expectations? Let them all down? She suddenly had a new respect for Rachel.

She sought out Rachel's face in the mass of people but she was seated down the other end, talking animatedly to Joey and Phoebe. She wondered what they were talking about, hopefully not her.

"You ok?"

She looked over to Chandler and offered him a small smile, very glad he was here with her. Her anchor in this sea of confusion.

"Sure," she swallowed although she wished they could just skip this and sneak off somewhere to talk. She wanted his advice and wanted to help him with whatever was bumming him out and they couldn't do that here.

God, was she really wishing she could play hooky at her own rehearsal dinner?

"He'll be here soon," Chandler tried to comfort her, tried to cheer her up the best he could while ignoring his own pain and bitterness. Pete was what made her happy now, Pete was who she was missing, who she was craving. It killed him that he couldn't fill that gap. "And by this time tomorrow you'll be married," that killed him even more. The knife twisting sharply in his torn heart.

"Can we not talk about the wedding?" she asked softly as the servers started to dish out the food.

Chandler frowned, somewhat taken back, "sure," he agreed quickly, surprised but more than happy to comply. He'd expected to have to sit here listening to her go on and on about Pete and the perfect wedding tomorrow; he'd been dreading it but had been willing to listen, to do anything to help her put a smile back on her face, "what did you want to talk about?"

"Anything," she confessed quietly, praying he wouldn't question her. Would hear her silent plea and just talk about nothing and everything. Like they'd done so many times in the past.

"Ok, well, I actually learned something yesterday," he commented casually as he tried to work out which fork to use, "Donald Duck has a middle name."

"Yeah?" she asked intrigued and eternally grateful that he'd known what she needed. "What is it?" she ventured, as she took the fork he'd selected off him and guided him to the correct one.

"Guess," he suggested, with a small nod of thanks for the fork help.

"Um, Quackers?"

"Quackers?" he teased, "what are you five? That's not a name."

"Hey," she protested, "it's a duck's name! Besides his last name is 'Duck' what kinda surname is that. It would be like being called Monica Woman, or Chandler Human."

"Ok, ok," he grinned playfully, taking another mouthful of the ridiculously small portion of fancy food, "I see your point but it's still wrong."

"How many guesses do I get?"

"Two?" he shrugged.

"Two? That's a little harsh," she protested, "and what do I get if I win?"

"The satisfaction of knowing you were right?" he offered. "There's no prize, besides you won't guess it, so there's no point even having this part of the conversation."

"Wanna bet?"

"With you? No," he smiled, getting caught up in the light-hearted banter. This had been exactly what his soul had needed. Some good quality time with her, just the two of them...despite the roomful of people and the staff weaving in and out...at this moment it felt like just them.

"Fine, ok, let's see," she took a sip of her wine as she considered her options. "Well Disney does like it's alliteration so I'm guessing it's something that starts with D...Derek? Wait, no, I take that one back, that's not ducky."

He laughed, his heart fluttering as he took her in. She was so cute and competitive, god, he loved that about her. For one foolish moment he allowed that love to wash over him, to bask in how absolutely incredible she was and forget that she wasn't his and never would be.

"Daffy, no wait that's Warner brothers, isn't it? Ok, um…"

He never realized how much he could love someone and how much it was gonna hurt tomorrow. He wished he could have stopped himself but he knew he was too far beyond that. He just hoped he'd get over her one day and be able to find someone else and love them an ounce of what he was feeling right now towards her.

"Ok, right, Damien."

He blinked, smiling, she looked so hopeful.

"How is Damien any more 'ducky' than Derek?" he chuckled, reaching for his drink.

"Just tell me," she insisted, hitting his arm gently. "Am I right?"

"No, of course you aren't," he teased, "I told you you wouldn't guess it."

"I still have another go," she reminded him, "so don't get too cocky, Bing."

He held his hand up in defense, moving to the side slightly so the waitress could clear his plate.

"Um ok, Donald something Duck..." she pondered.

"No, it's not 'Something'," he informed her and she hit him again.

"That wasn't a guess," she told him pointedly.

He let her continue, just content to be with her, content with the knowledge that he was making her laugh and smile and forget about her absent fiancé.

"Ok, ok," she declared proudly, "I've got it David. Donald David Duck."

"Nuzzzzzzzzzzzz," he made the buzzer sound, "incorrect Geller."

She huffed good naturedly and shrugged a little, "fine, just tell me."

"It's Fauntleroy," he said smugly to which she frowned.

"That's not a name!" she protested.

"Yes it is," he informed her easily, "it's his middle name so it has to be a name."

"But it's not 'ducky' and it doesn't even start with a 'D'!"

"I didn't give him the name," he pointed out, "there's no point complaining to me. I have my own middle name to deal with."

"Which is?" she asked curiously, "you've never told me what the 'M' stands for."

"And I never will," he quipped with a smile as the next course was served.

Monica laughed, totally caught up in her stupid conversation with Chandler and not noticing that the time had flown by and the three courses had been eaten and cleared away.

"Miss Geller?" Sarah interrupted, "Um, are you ready for the speeches?"

Speeches. The warm, relaxed atmosphere she'd had with Chandler suddenly vanished as the harsh reality of her present situation came crashing down on her. Speeches. Guests. The wedding...

The wedding.

"Miss Geller?" her wedding planner prompted again. "If we are to keep to the schedule, should the best man go ahead with his speech now?"

"Ok, yeah," she nodded, confused about everything still. She shouldn't be spending her rehearsal dinner having a better time chatting away to Chandler about stupid things. If she truly wanted this shouldn't it be different? Shouldn't it feel different? Shouldn't she be walking round and chatting to everybody? Telling them how ecstatic she was to be getting married, talking about her future and be floating on cloud nine?

"Right," Sarah continued, "it's pretty important that somebody else also make a speech. Maybe your mother or your pretend father or stand in groom?" Monica shook her head.

She glanced at Chandler who looked sad again all of a sudden. When they'd been chatting away he'd looked carefree, like the weight of the world was off his shoulders. That glint had been back in his eyes, but now he looked crestfallen, his eyes dull again as he studied the table cloth.

"No, no one," she said quickly, "he, uh, charges for the third time."

She ignored the confused wedding planner and shot her best friend a look, he looked up and smiled back at her briefly. God, she always knew how to make him smile.

Monica's hands twisted with nervousness as she watched Sarah walk over to Jake, leaning down to speak to Pete's best man. She frowned as he began to laugh, shaking his head.

Damn him. She was not a fan of either of her soon-to-be brothers in law.

Sarah returned to Monica, her clipboard in her hand, "Okay, he doesn't have a speech."

She rolled her eyes at that, "Why doesn't that surprise me?" she leaned to the side, looking for Rachel, "Maybe Rachel has one?"

Sarah nodded and hurried over to the maid of honor, nodding and rushing back to Monica, "She said she doesn't really have one for tonight but if you really need her to she can use the one she did for tomorrow and…"

Monica sighed, waving a hand, "No, that's okay. I'll just...come up with something."

Chandler saw the look in her eyes, the pain she obviously felt about the love of her life not being by her side at this moment. It wasn't fair for her to stand in front of all these people, come up with something to say and make it sound like she was the happiest woman in the world.

He sighed, listening as Sarah went over the schedule problems, another thing she probably didn't want to hear at this moment. She turned to him, panic in her voice as Sarah walked away, "do you have a pen?"

He shook his head, "no."

"I've got to come up with something," she said to him, "where in the hell is Pete?" Chandler focused on her again as she picked up his wrist, looking at the late hour on his watch.

He sighed and made a decision. He squeezed her hand as he pulled himself up, "expect the bill in the mail." He winked at her again and she watched him as he stood from his seat, his glass of expensive wine in his right hand, his fork in his left. He tapped the silverware against the glass, the loud noise catching everyone's attention.