Hi, remember me? Honestly I didn't realize it had been so long since I updated until late last week when I checked, and saw that it had been almost 3 weeks? Yikes. In my defense, I spent a few weekends travelling and didn't bring my laptop! Hopefully this monster of a chapter makes up for it! As always, thank you SO much to everyone who has left me comments-here, on Instagram, and on Sarahah-and I BEG you to continue to do so! I love hearing your thoughts, and it motivates me to keep writing!
I'm pretty sure this chapter alone is longer than any other individual story I've ever completed (I wasn't kidding when I said it was a monster) but I didn't want to break it up, so here, have 6.5k words!
"Hi honey," Chandler greeted, strolling into apartment 20 after a long day of work. "Hi baby."
Monica rolled her eyes as Chandler ran his hand over her ever-growing baby bump but accepted his kiss and allowed him to wrap an arm around her waist.
"How was your day?" she asked.
"Boring, long," he shrugged. "Missed you guys."
"Aww, we missed you too, didn't we baby?" she gently ran a hand down her own stomach, twining her fingers with Chandler's there. Chandler beamed with fondness, looking at their joined hands in awe. He felt her lean back into him and tightened his arm around her waist.
"I was thinking," he began softly, "it's been a while since we've been out, just us. What do you say I take you out for a nice dinner tonight? We could go to that Italian place you love, introduce small stuff to the world of fancy pasta."
Monica sighed. "Sweetie, I'd love to, but I got called in for the dinner shift tonight. I have to leave in less than an hour."
Chandler deflated, but tried not to let it show. Monica's job was important to her; he knew that and understood that. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel bad about something she loved so much. But it was a Friday night, and she had worked at least one shift every day this week, including back-to-back lunch and dinner shifts yesterday. She deserved a night off, a night to rest, preferably with him.
He didn't voice any of that out loud, however. Her work was hers, not his, and if she wanted to go in, there was nothing he could say to change that. Besides, she would be cutting back on hours soon to get ready for the baby and frankly they could use the money. Individually, they were two of the more financially secure members of their group, especially with Ross's recent anger management issues, but bringing in a third mouth to feed—and diaper, and clothe, and entertain—would most certainly throw them for a loop. It never hurt to have more money saved up, he knew this. He just hated that she was taking on extra hours.
"Anything I can do to help you while you're gone?" he asked as cheerfully as possible. It was Monica, Chandler knew she could tell exactly how he was feeling inside, he just prayed she would choose to ignore it like he was.
"You're so sweet," she cooed, turning around and gently patting his cheek. "No honey, I'm okay. I've been doing some work around here all day, there's nothing that can't wait until tomorrow."
"Is there anything you can give me to make me at least feel helpful?" he tried again.
"Oh, Chandler, you are helpful," she assured him, looking straight into his eyes to convey that she was serious. "I promise, just by asking how you can help shows how much you care, and I really appreciate it, okay? But I don't need you to do things for me all the time, okay? Just being around and staying so calm all the time is more help that you'll ever know."
Chandler nodded in defeat. "I wish you didn't have to go in," he admitted, pulling her close in a hug. He pressed his face against the top of her head and allowed himself to take in her scent, to just appreciate her while she was here, because there was a good chance he wouldn't see her again until almost midnight.
"I know, I'm sorry," she responded, face pressed to his shoulder. "Will you wait for me here tonight? I work lunch tomorrow, but I don't want to go a full day without seeing you."
"Of course," he assured her. "I'll be right here when you get back, ready to be your personal teddy bear for the night." That got a smile out of her, and Chandler sighed in relief. He hated when she was stressed, or upset, or tired, or any other of the hundreds of negative things she could be feeling at any given moment. That he was able to put a smile on her face if just for a second meant the world to him.
"I'll see you later then." She pulled away from his embrace with a kiss on the cheek, then he pulled her back for one on the lips before letting her go entirely. "I love you, Chandler."
"I love you, too, Mon," he grinned shyly. "And I love you, too, munchkin."
Monica looked down at her stomach and smiled. "It loves you too," she said, and he smiled back.
"Alright, now get out of here, go save your restaurant," Chandler waved at the door. She blew him one more kiss before she was out the door and Chandler was alone in the apartment. He turned to the fridge to see what the girls had in the way of easy dinner. He was so used to coming over here, even before there was a him and Monica, he sometimes forgot that this wasn't actually his apartment. He smiled a bit. Really this was all of their apartment. The six of them shared it, regardless of who actually paid rent.
He settled on just a sandwich, since they had more than enough supplies for that, and took it across the hall to change out of his work clothes.
"Hey man," Joey greeted from his Barcalounger.
"Have you even moved since I left this morning?" Chandler asked.
"Sure," Joey shrugged. "I had to use the bathroom, and Monica wouldn't bring me lunch so I had to go across the hall for that."
Chandler just looked at him. "Well, I'm glad you've had such a productive day," he deadpanned. "Were you planning on moving at all the rest of the night, or should I find someone else to hang out with?"
Joey sat straight up. "What? No, dude, I wanna hang out!"
"Okay, let me change then," Chandler popped the last bite of sandwich into his mouth and ducked into his bedroom to take off the suit he wore to work, replacing it with sweatpants and a tshirt.
"No Monica?" Joey asked when he returned to the living room. Chandler took a seat in his chair and swiveled to face his roommate before leaning back.
"Nope, she had to go into work," he shrugged. "Pizza?"
"You know it," Joey nodded. "She's been working a lot lately," he observed. Chandler shrugged again. He knew it was true, but it wasn't Joey's business and his tone suggested wanting to talk about it. There was nothing to talk about. Instead of answering, he picked up the phone to call in their usual order of two pepperoni pizzas. He knew Joey was still looking at him, trying to read him, and Chandler was glad to have thirty years of practice at hiding how he was really feeling.
When he finally hung up the phone and informed Joey that it would be about thirty minutes, silence fell over the two of them, and Chandler knew it was only a matter of time before—
"Is everything okay with you and Monica?"
That.
"Everything's fine," he answered defensively. Because it was, really. They hadn't fought or anything like that, he was just a bit…he didn't know how to describe what he was feeling.
"You sure?" Joey pressed. "You seem upset."
"We're fine, Joe," Chandler huffed. "I just haven't gotten to see her very much this week with both of us being so busy."
"Just tell her not to work so much," Joey shrugged. "She's having a baby soon, right? Isn't she supposed to go on maternity leave?"
"You want me do tell Monica to stop working?" Chandler turned to him in disbelief. "Are you insane? She won't even let me go grocery shopping for her! You think she'll quit her job just because I miss her?"
"Hey man," Joey defended. "It's not like she's quitting forever! Don't you think she'd want to take some time off?"
"Do you know her at all?" Chandler asked incredulously. "She'll slow down when she's on her death bed. She actually likes her job, I'm not gonna take that away from her just so we can spend more time together."
"She'll have to go on maternity leave eventually though, right?" Joey asked. "Have you guys even talked about that?"
Joey actually brought up a good point, Chandler had to admit. They hadn't talked about that, or really anything past the next week or so. Their plan to "take it slow" seemed to be limiting them in planning for the future, something that was critically important. They needed to talk about that, and soon. Chandler knew that, but he wasn't about to have this conversation with Joey of all people.
"Just let us deal with it, okay?" Chandler pleaded. "Why don't you turn on Baywatch or something?"
That seemed to do the trick, as Joey turned excitedly back to the TV to set up the tape on their VHS player. Chandler allowed himself to sag against the counted now that Joey was sufficiently distracted. He liked to think that he and Monica were on the same page, one hundred percent of the time, as a result of their almost decade long friendship and the connection they shared. More and more, however, Chandler was discovering that that wasn't always the case. They were extremely compatible, and he would never stop believing that, but they weren't mind readers. They couldn't keep going on without talking about what happens next.
The buzzing of the intercom startled him out of his thoughts, and when Joey made no move to get up, Chandler sighed and went to unlock the building for the pizza delivery person. When they finally heard the knock on the door, Chandler pulled out his walled to pay while Joey took it upon himself to grab the pizzas. By the time he turned around, Joey was already on his second piece. Thankfully Chandler wasn't too hungry after the sandwich he'd made himself earlier, because it didn't look like he'd be getting more than a few slices to himself.
They were mostly quiet as they watched, save for Joey's occasional commentary on the lifeguards. Chandler couldn't focus on the TV show; he was too consumed with worry about where he was with Monica. God he hated this. Monica was supposed to be the constant in his life, his rock; whether they were together or not, his relationship with her was the one thing he could count on. The feeling of that certainty slipping away was almost physically painful.
He ended up eating only two pieces of pizza before the knot in his stomach became too much, but if Joey noticed, he didn't say anything. After making their way through their tapes of Baywatch, Joey flipped to the Celtics game on ESPN, which didn't hold Chandler's interest any more than the previous show had. He found himself glancing at the clock with alarming frequency, waiting for it to be late enough to head back over to Monica's. How is it only eight? he wondered to himself, willing the glowing numbers on the kitchen clock to change faster. He still had at least three hours before she would be back and he was already antsy.
He got up to throw the pizza boxes away, just to have something to do, and actually made the trip all the way down to the trash room in the basement instead of jamming them down the chute like they normally would. He moved as slowly and deliberately as he could, hoping that this would knock off at least fifteen minutes of his night. Joey didn't say anything when he returned, his entire focus still on basketball, and Chandler debated just calling it a night and going to spend the evening waiting in Monica's room.
Just as he was about to cave, the apartment door opened again.
"Hey guys," Rachel greeted. "You seen Monica?"
"Chandler said she went into work," Joey responded, and Chandler nodded in agreement.
"I thought she was off today?"
"She said they needed her to fill in for the dinner shift," Chandler shrugged. "She'll be back late." He clanked at the clock again. Only eight-thirty. Had time always moved this slowly?
"Aww, I'm sorry," Rachel comforted, standing next to him in the kitchen and rubbing his arm.
"Why do people keep making this such a big deal?" Chandler exclaimed, pulling his arm away. "She went into work, because she has a job. That hasn't changed. And it has nothing to do with me! I don't care that she's working, so hoc come you guys do?" He was probably overreacting, but it had been awhile since he'd had an outlet for his conflicting emotions, and apparently today they were making themselves known in the form of frustration.
"Chandler, it's okay," Rachel moved away. "I didn't mean anything by it, I just figured you would want to spend more time with her, is all!"
"I know, I know," Chandler shook his head, trying to clear it. "I'm sorry, I'm just…I'm gonna wait for her across the hall."
With that, he strode quickly out of the apartment without looking back, the door slamming behind him. He went straight for Monica's room, and collapsed onto her bed, rubbing his hands over his face. His outburst had been uncalled for, and he knew it. But Joey and Rachel had both struck a nerve. Truth was he missed her like crazy; just sleeping next to her wasn't enough. He wanted to see her during the day, wanted to take her out for nice dinners, wanted to take some time to focus on them, not them as parents.
There was a soft knock on Monica's bedroom door before it cracked open, revealing Rachel alone.
"You okay?" she asked.
"I could have been naked in here," he pointed out instead of answering.
"But you're not," she responded simply, crossing the room to sit next to him on the bed. "So? Want to talk?"
"Not really," Chandler huffed, which was kind of a lie. He needed to talk, preferably with Monica, but at this point just about anyone would do.
"Want to talk anyways?" she pressed, and Chandler sighed.
"I don't know," he admitted. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do."
"What you're supposed to do about what, sweetie?"
"I miss her," he said quietly. "I don't know where we are and I hate that, but I don't know how to ask. I don't want her to feel like I'm pressuring anything because I'm not. I'm not talking marriage or anything, but wouldn't it be nice to have some idea of what life is gonna look like past this weekend? And I feel like such a girl worrying about it, but someone needs to." He looked up at her, meeting her eyes. "Has she said anything to you?"
Rachel was quiet, an Chandler could see her go over his confession in her head, processing and trying to decide the best response. He felt completely hopeless, and for a brief moment longed for earlier times, when Monica was his relationship coach and he could always count on her to have an answer to any problem he created. It was different now; since she was his girlfriend he couldn't exactly go to her for impartial relationship advice anymore. It was better this way, though. Chandler still believed that this was what was meant to happen. It felt too right to be wrong.
"Honey, you know Monica loves you more than anything," Rachel finally responded, speaking slowly. "She doesn't talk to me the way she used to either, you know. She's been keeping all this very close to her chest. Which means she's scared."
"Or that she doesn't think there's anything worth talking about," Chandler pointed out. "I could just be freaking out for nothing. I tend to do that, you know."
Rachel smiled. "Yeah, you do. But I think in this case you're right. You guys are having a baby; it's perfectly reasonable to plan for the future. And I'd bet you anything that Monica has this all planned out in her head, you just have to get it out of her."
"You're right," Chandler shook his head. "I just don't want to say the wrong thing."
"Of course you'll say the wrong thing," Rachel replied, rolling her eyes at his offended face. "And Monica will forgive you, and you'll be fine, because that's what you guys do. Chandler, she's not expecting you to be perfect, believe me. She'll just be happy that you're trying."
"Yeah, that's what she keeps saying," Chandler admitted.
"See? I promise, you're handling all this really, really well," she assured him. "Now, if you're done freaking out for now, I'm going to get ready for bed. Are you gonna be okay until Monica gets back?"
"I'm a big boy, Rach," he huffed. "I can take care of myself."
Rachel laughed. "Okay, then. Goodnight Chandler."
"Night," Chandler replied as she closed the door behind herself before flopping down backwards and arranging himself so that his head was on the pillow. He didn't really feel any better after talking to Rachel, because he hadn't gotten any real answers. For all that Monica liked to put on a brave face for the rest of the group, she also liked to share everything with Rachel and Phoebe, and the knowledge that she hadn't been doing so worried him a bit.
Nine o'clock.
The minutes continued to drag by as Chandler let his thoughts run wild. Every second that passed before she got home was one more that he had to overthink everything. He contemplated trying to sleep, but as soon as he closed his eyes it was obvious that sleep wouldn't come easily. Between his racing thoughts and the lack of girlfriend to cuddle up with, there was little to no chance of calming himself enough for that.
Nine fifteen.
The door to the apartment opened and closed, and Chandler assumed that Joey had come in search of a late night snack, or that Rachel had decided to join Joey across the hall for a bit before bed. Soft footsteps approached the bedroom, and the door creaked open.
"I didn't expect you to be here yet."
Chandler sat straight up. "Monica? What are you doing here?"
"Slow night," she explained, moving closer to the bed. "I was tired, so they sent me home."
"Good, you need your rest," he responded, opening his arms in invitation. She knelt on the bed next to him for a quick kiss before standing up again.
"Give me a minute to shower, okay? If I lay down, I won't get up again and I really need to shower."
"Okay, I'll be here," he grinned, feeling so much of his stress from earlier evaporate just at the sight of her face. Wow, was he whipped.
True to her word, it took Monica less than ten minutes to shower and dress herself in sweats—his sweats, actually—and join him in bed again.
"Mmm missed you," she mumbled into his chest, arm thrown around his waist.
"I missed you too Mon," he whispered, pressing soft kisses into her hair between breaths. It wasn't the time to bring up his concerns. She was tired, he was worn out, and what mattered right now was making sure that she was ready to get up in the morning and go back to work. The last thing they needed was for him to bring up something that might start a fight.
"Sorry I'm not much company tonight," she continued sleepily.
"As I recall, I did sign up to be your human teddy bear," he joked, brushing his fingers lightly over the side of her face, down her shoulder, until he finally rested them on her pregnant stomach. She was growing by the day, it seemed, and nothing in the world made Chandler happier than running his hand over the bump and knowing that he helped create the life in there. His other arm stayed wrapped tightly around her, holding her as close as physically possible. "Just having you here is all I need."
"You're the best," she trailed off, her breathing evening out until Chandler knew she was asleep.
"No, you're the best," he countered quietly, pressing one last kiss to her head before joining her in sleep. Tomorrow, he decided. Tomorrow they would talk.
Monica left early in the morning, leaving Chandler with a quick kiss goodbye before he rolled over to go back to sleep. Monica tended to get up early regardless of the day or her work schedule, whereas Chandler had never really broken out of his college habit of sleeping until noon on his days off. The early days of sneaking around had really taken their toll on him in that respect, and sometimes he thought he was still catching up on sleep, even weeks later.
He didn't emerge until the sound of voices in the kitchen became too loud to ignore.
"Look who decided to show up," Phoebe greeted from the kitchen table, nursing a coffee. Ross and Rachel sat on either side of her, holding their own cups. Joey was probably still asleep.
"Don't you guys have anywhere better to be at," he looked at the clock, "twelve-thirty on a Saturday? Monica's not even here to make you food."
"You don't even live here," Rachel protested. "I have more right to be here than you do."
Chandler grumbled unintelligibly as he shuffled his way to the coffee machine. "You know you could get better coffee downstairs. And I could still be sleeping."
"Oh, quit whining," Phoebe scoffed. "You went to bed at what, like, nine?" Chandler avoided her gaze because she kind of had a point.
"Dude when did you turn fifty?" Ross asked, and Chandler just glared at him in response, sipping slowly from his mug. Sure they had had an early night last night, but that was one of few. Between Monica's busy work schedule and his own, late at night was often their only time they spent together, and it was beginning to wear on him. He couldn't even begin to imagine how exhausted Monica must be, which reminded him of the cause for his stress the night before.
Yeah, the guys had no idea what it was like.
"Guys, come on, go easy on him," Rachel came to his defense. "It's hard work looking after a pregnant woman."
"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response," Chandler said shortly, downing the rest of his mug and putting it in the sink. He would wash it later, before Monica got home, along with whatever other messes the gang managed to create in the meantime. If Monica wouldn't tell him how to help, at the very least he could do these little things to make her life easier. It was the least he could do, really.
She would get off at three, so that gave Chandler just over two hours to get ready for the day, and to plan how he would broach the topic of the future.
The future.
Every time he thought about it, a fresh wave of panic shot through him. He was barely thirty years old, and not very mature for thirty, he would admit. Until a few months ago, "the future" consisted of what he was having for dinner that night, and maybe when his next night out with the guys would be. He lacked motivation in his career, he lacked experience in relationships (it really said a lot that his longest relationship before Monica had been Janice), and any thoughts of marriage, kids, and a house in the suburbs were so far to the back of his mind he wasn't even sure they existed. Now, those thoughts seemed to be the only ones he had.
Before he could spiral too badly, he made a retreat across the hall to get dressed, ignoring Phoebe's comment of "What's up with him?" on his way out. Joey's door was still closed, and Chandler spared a moment to wonder why they weren't bothering him about sleeping so late, even though he had no job and no pregnant girlfriend to occupy his waking hours. It wasn't worth his energy though, and besides, he was used to being put under a microscope by his friends; that's just the way it was.
In no rush to rejoin the group across the hall, Chandler got ready to take a nice long shower, hoping that that would relieve at least some of the tension that had built up in him over the last few days. He brought a change of clothes into the bathroom with him and turned on the water as hot as he could handle. Steam quickly filled the room as he stepped under the hot spray, allowing it to pound down on his back for a while, making no move to start washing himself. He did his best to erase, at least temporarily, all thought from his brain, focusing only on steady rhythm of water. He desperately missed having Monica as his confidant. He knew he could still go to her with anything, and she would still have the ability to make him feel better than anyone else could, but it was different, since the one he was worried about was her.
So, not clearing his mind, then.
He groaned in frustration, before hurrying to lather his body with soap and rinse it away. He washed his hair just as quickly and shut the shower off. He stood there for a few moments, water dripping from his body, and was struck with how alone he felt. In their ten years of friendship, he could count on one hand the number of times he'd been afraid to talk to Monica about something; even going to her for sex advice had seemed completely natural. But now everything was so complicated, between their relationship, the baby, and their friends' interference, that he felt like he was walking on eggshells around her. If he couldn't talk to Monica, who could he talk to?
Today, today they needed to talk. But how would he even begin?
He shivered, the water cooling against his skin and he grabbed his towel to dry himself completely before tugging on his boxers, khakis, and sweater. His hair just wasn't worth the effort, he decided, so he just hung his towel on its rack—Monica hated when he left his towel on the floor—and exited the bathroom.
Joey's door was open now, but there was no sign of the other man in the apartment, so Chandler assumed that he, too, had headed across the hall for breakfast. They could have all gone downstairs, but Chandler really didn't think he would be that lucky.
Instead of checking, he retreated to his room, closing both pieces of his door about halfway in an effort to communicate that he didn't want to be bothered, but without making it seem like he was sulking, because he wasn't. He was thinking.
It was after one-thirty now, apparently the process of showering had taken as long as Chandler had hoped it would. In less than two hours Monica would be home, and Chandler wanted to confront her right away, not giving himself time to talk himself out of it. He grabbed a pad of paper—further evidence of his girlfriend's influence—and a pen and began to scribble down notes.
I miss you
I'm worried about you
I don't want you exhausting yourself
I wish you'd let me help more
I miss you
I love you
Why was this so hard to put into words? For the pace and quantity at which these thoughts were racing around his head you'd think they would want to go somewhere, but no. Because Chandler's life was just never that easy.
I miss you
I love you
He chucked the pad across the room where it hit the wall with a smack and groaned in frustration. That was the bottom line, wasn't it? He loved her so much he didn't know what to do with himself. It was new and amazing and terrifying and all-encompassing, and the fact that she was carrying his child only magnified each of these emotions. In less than five months they were going to be a family and that thought, as always, made Chandler's heart race in the absolute best way. So much had happened in such a short time. A year ago, he was (newly) single, lonely, and wondering if he was even capable of finding love, or if he was doomed to a life of being screwed over by everyone. Now, he was eight months into the longest relationship of his life and had a baby on the way, and couldn't remember a time when he had been so happy or scared in his entire life.
He glanced at the clock, almost two-fifteen. Time to get up and stop avoiding his friends, he figured. There were dishes to be done and he knew Rachel certainly wouldn't do them.
Everyone except Monica was gathered in the living room of apartment twenty, some daytime news program on the TV, thought Chandler doubted any of them were actually watching it that closely. They all looked up when he entered, and he went straight to the sink to tackle the plates, bowls, and coffee cups stacked there.
"You okay, man?" Ross asked cautiously, and Chandler glanced over his shoulder in acknowledgement.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Chandler responded as casually as he could. The last thing he needed was the other four getting involved in whatever internal crisis he was currently dealing with, especially before Monica herself was involved.
They all seemed to take his short response as a sign that he wasn't going to talk, and went back to whatever they had been discussing when he came in. Probably something to do with him and Monica, he figured, since that seemed to be the most common topic of conversation these days.
He allowed himself to focus on the task at hand, and put all of his energy into making sure that each dish was "Monica clean" and put away in its proper place. He had spent enough time in this apartment over the years, and even more in the past few months, that he was familiar with the system and he really hoped he wasn't just creating more work for her. He knew she would appreciate the effort either way, but it didn't do anyone any good if she ended up having to redo all his work.
He didn't know how much time had passed, but he didn't look up from the sink until he felt arms wrap around his waist and a distinct bump pressed against his back. He smiled to himself.
"Something's different here," he quipped, drying his hands with a dish towel and turning around in her embrace, wrapping his own arms around his girlfriend as her arms moved to rest over his shoulders.
"Hello to you too," Monica replied, standing on her toes to reach his lips for a kiss.
"Is it really three already?" he asked, resting his forehead against hers.
"Glad to see you didn't miss me too much then," she grinned, and Chandler poked her side.
"You kidding? I missed you like crazy. I've been going out of my mind for all three hours that I've been awake."
Monica rolled her eyes. "Weak," she teased. "But I missed you too. Coming home to you is always the best part of my day."
"Really?" he asked.
"Yes!" she laughed. "You do know that I happen to like being around you, right? I mean, I figured you'd have caught on by now."
"I just like hearing it," Chandler shrugged, secretly bursting with happiness, as he always did when he heard her say she loved him.
"You're impossible," Monica said fondly, lightly slapping the side of his face before leaning up to kiss him again.
"Ah, come on, can you guys not do that please?" Joey called, and honestly Chandler had completely forgotten that they had an audience.
"It's my apartment, I'll make out with my boyfriend if I want to," Monica responded firmly, a contrast to how soft and warm she felt in his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder and he tightened his arms around her, gently rocking them back and forth.
"I hate that you're so tired all the time," Chandler mumbled softly to her, and he felt her sigh.
"I know," she admitted. "Me too. It's no fun being on my feet all day when it feels like I'm standing for two."
"So start working less," he suggested suddenly. So not the way he wanted this discussion to begin. He hoped for a moment that she would brush it off, wouldn't take it at face value, that this could wait until later, but he felt her pull back a bit to look him in the eyes. No such luck.
"Why would I start working less?"
"Oh come on, Monica, you're having a baby in a few months, there's no shame in taking a step back."
Apparently they were doing this now.
He could see the look that flashed in her eyes the moment before she pulled back completely, eliminating any contact between them. Chandler missed her touch immediately, but knew that this was not the time.
"Can you guys give us a minute?" she addressed the rest of the room, her even gaze not leaving his.
"Coffee house?"
"Yep, we're gone."
The other four scurried from the apartment, glancing cautiously between the two. Chandler didn't like where this was going, he didn't like it at all, but it was a conversation they needed to have, at the very least so he could stop stressing about it.
"Take a step back?" she repeated once they were alone.
"You know what I mean," Chandler replied. "You're tired all the time, you're hardly ever home, would it hurt to cut back on your hours a bit? You're gonna have to go on maternity leave eventually, you might as well ease into it."
"Ease into it? Chandler, don't you get it? I love my job, I love going into work, and right now more than ever I need something like this to keep me sane!" her voice had risen in volume, not quite to a yell but she was on her way for sure.
"I'm not asking you to quit," Chandler argued. "I'm not asking you to sit around and do nothing all day, I just think you need to at least think about taking it easy for a bit. All this stress isn't good for you, and it can't be good for the baby."
"Oh, so now you think you know what's best for me?" she exclaimed. "You don't think I can take care of myself?"
"Come on, Mon, you know that's not what I—"
"I'm an adult, Chandler, and I may be pregnant, but I'm not an invalid. I can go to work, I can do my job, and I can do it without you checking up on me, okay? So cut the crap, and get off my back."
"You're blowing this way out of proportion," Chandler shook his head, frustration growing by the minute. "I never said you couldn't take care of yourself. I just wish you'd admit that you're human and that you need a break. There's nothing wrong with admitting you need help, you know? I'm trying my best here, but you won't work with me! You're picking up extra shifts left and right, then you're so hung up on controlling everything that you won't let me do anything around here, that by the end of the day you're so exhausted that all you can do is collapse into bed. That's no way to go through life Monica, we're supposed to be a team, you know? And lately it seems like I barely see you at all!"
"Oh well I'm sorry that you're feeling neglected, but believe it or not I have bigger concerns right now!" she snapped. "Don't you get it? I need this right now. I need to go to work, I need to feel like everything is normal for as long as I can because if I don't I'll go mad and the last thing I need right now is to have you of all people on my back, okay? You wanna know how you can help? Get out."
She pointed to the door, and Chandler looked between her and the way out for a moment, deciding how far to push. He was so incredibly frustrated that he could punch something, to the point where he was barely hearing what she was saying. All he knew was that she wasn't listening to him, either, and that just irritated him further. Didn't she understand? He was worried about her. He cared about her and all she seemed to be doing was pushing him away. If she didn't want him around, then that's the way it would be.
He made sure to slam the door on the way out.
Duh-duh-duhhhhhh
I told y'all that angst was coming...but what happens now?! Let me know what you thought of this chapter, and be sure to visit me on instagram supernatural_mondler for more Mondler feels!