A/N Thank you so much to everyone who left comments on the last installment, and to everyone who has stuck with this story. I really hope you enjoy this final chapter!
"How can you not believe in evolution, Ross?" Joey demanded incredulously, "I thought you were a man of science!"
"Oh my God! Of course I believe in evolution!" Ross responded angrily, clawing at his hair in frustration, "You said we evolved from monkeys, which is incorrect! I'm just telling you that humans did not evolve from any primate that exists today!"
Joey scoffed and shook his head derisively. "What are you talking about, dude? Everybody knows we evolved from monkeys! It's a simple fact. If you don't believe in evolution, how do you even explain lizards and dinosaurs? Some polentolgist you are!"
Chandler smothered a laugh as he watched Ross's face turn an angry shade of puce. He almost expected to see furious steam begin to puff from his friend's ears like in a Looney Tunes cartoon.
The group had arrived at a luxurious beach house owned by a publisher friend of Nora Bing earlier that evening, and the three men were sitting around the generously proportioned, white marble, kitchen island. They were a few cold beers down, and the alcohol seemed to have rendered both Ross and Joey completely unable to understand each other, and more than a little belligerent.
As his two friends continued to quarrel at crossed purposes, Chandler allowed his gaze to drift across to the minimalist blonde wood and white leather lounge area where his mother was demolishing the last of a third bottle of Chardonnay, ably assisted by Monica, Rachel and Phoebe. Monica and Rachel were giggling uncontrollably, their eyes delightedly shocked by whatever story Phoebe was regaling them all with. Knowing her as well as he did, and judging by the reaction of the other girls, as well as the intrigue and hunger in Nora's eyes as she listened intently, her chin resting thoughtfully in her hands, Chandler concluded that Phoebe was most likely recounting the tale of some wild sexual escapade that his mother was probably looking to magpie for her next book. He honestly dreaded to imagine.
As his eyes came to rest upon Monica, a devoted smile tugged at his lips as he allowed himself to enjoy the sparkle in her eyes and her broad grin. Feeling the weight of his gaze upon her, she turned towards him and returned a loving glance that caused an immediate flutter in his heart. It was so good to see her relaxed, untroubled and having fun with her friends like this.
When all charges had finally been dropped, and the death of Pete Becker officially deemed an accident by the police, Chandler and Monica had returned to Bedford Street fully expecting that their reunion with their loved ones would be somewhat awkward and hesitant: Phoebe of course, had remained her usual unflappable self throughout, so there were no real problems there; Joey had greeted the pair with characteristically unabashed enthusiasm, wrapping them in bear hugs, offering them his unflinching approval and support, so normal service had quickly resumed with him too; Ross and Rachel however, had as anticipated, proved somewhat trickier.
Chandler was not one to hold a grudge and wanted nothing more than to return to some degree of normality as quickly and painlessly as humanly possible. Monica, however, still felt more than a shade of outrage on her lover's behalf with regards to Ross and Rachel's prior treatment of him, and predictably, she was finding it harder to back down. Chandler had pleaded with her that his absolute priority was to put all bad-feeling behind him, and focus on rebuilding his future, with her at its front and center, and he had eventually managed to convince her that deep conversations and sincere apologies could wait.
Ross and Rachel seemed similarly mindful of the fragility of their relationship with the couple, and rather than tearing off the emotional band-aid and risking further conflict by instigating frank and emotive discussion, the four of them had managed to spend the last six weeks rubbing along together with polite civility, their interactions stilted at first, but becoming incrementally easier and warmer with the passing of each day.
This thawing of relations had allowed Chandler and Monica to split their time more evenly between their respective apartments, which had come as a huge relief to Rachel, who had missed the company of her roommate tremendously. Coming so horribly close to being forcibly separated from Monica by the police had a lasting and profound effect on Chandler, leaving him with an extreme reluctance to spend a minute longer than necessary apart from her; still, he had chivalrously made an effort to make himself occasionally scarce in order to encourage her to spend more time with her best friend, and he had been pleased to overhear the two women having increasingly frequent and longer conversations over their morning coffee or an evening glass of wine. It brought contentment to all to see the two women ever more at ease in one another's company, and a gradual return of their tactile and affectionate bond.
Ross and Chandler had not yet had any such reconciliation, but they had at least managed to inject a little jocularity into their interactions, particularly when Joey was there to act as a buffer. Crucially, it was evident to Chandler that Ross was making a concerted effort to be accepting and open-minded about his oldest friend's relationship with his younger sister, and he was enormously appreciative of that. He could often feel Ross's curious eyes surreptitiously observing his exchanges with Monica, and he felt confident that the strength and veracity of their love would eventually become apparent to her brother beyond a shadow of a doubt. He knew that a heart-to-heart between himself and Ross would eventually happen, but this mutual courtesy was enough for now.
Chandler had been particularly nervous about how Monica's parents would react towards him, but Jack and Judy were currently so wary of causing their daughter any further distress, that they too were approaching the subject of her relationship with a respectful caution. Monica had offered Chandler some assurance that despite the very nearly catastrophic consequences of his reckless and ill thought out false confession, the fact that his clear intention had been to take unjustified and horrendous punishment on her behalf, had at least provided confirmation to her family that his feelings for her were deep and genuine.
Chandler's own mother had been initially furious that her son would break up with his fiancee without telling his family, and then risk his own liberty so precipitately for another woman. However, her ire soon subsided when he explained to her, in devastating detail, the whole story of what he and Monica had experienced over the past 12 months. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the account Kathy had given to Nora had diverged wildly from the truth, and she had declined to reveal many critical elements of the ordeal Monica had been subjected to.
Chandler was amazed to discover that Nora had not needed to apply any pressure on Kathy to inform the police of his innocence: She had apparently been immediately keen to approach them and give her ex-boyfriend the alibi he had not requested, but that she knew her neighbors could provide. Nora put this down to Kathy having lingering feelings for her son, but when Chandler thought back to the pure venom in his ex's eyes when she had seen him and Monica emerge, giddy and half-naked, from his bathroom that fateful afternoon, Chandler strongly suspected she was more likely to have been motivated by a bitter desire to implicate Monica in Pete's death.
At first, Nora had privately harbored a few reservations about Chandler's relationship with Monica, given its tempestuous beginnings, but when she observed their obvious enchantment with one another, she became swiftly convinced that this was the real deal, and was delighted to see her boy so madly in love. Nora was incredibly fond of all of Chandler's friends, but she proudly informed her somewhat skeptical son that her maternal intuition had always sensed a particular spark between him and the beautiful Geller girl.
In fact, the more Nora had learned about Monica and Chandler's story; the intensity of their love for one another; and the multitude of barriers they had been forced to overcome in order to finally be together, the more she seemed to have been swept up in the romance of it all. Chandler was secretly dreading that the two, very-nearly star-crossed lovers might become yet more fodder for the next Nora Bing bestseller.
In part, it was a desire to continue to reacquaint and build bridges with their friends, after such a torrid and fractious period, that had inspired Chandler to arrange this trip away, but there was another reason.
This Thursday would be June 10th. The date that should have seen Pete Becker tried for his despicable crime in a court of law.
Chandler knew that Monica's feelings towards the collapse of the trial and Pete's untimely death remained deeply complex, and not something that she had seemed keen to talk about or dwell upon thus far, so he hoped that a vacation might prove a welcome distraction from it all, as well as providing the whole group with some much needed fun.
When he had mentioned his idea to Nora, she had immediately secured the use of her friend's sumptuous and sprawling beach house for her son and his friends for a whole week, and had then proceeded to invite herself along. The terror Nora had experienced when she had believed that her only son was about to be incarcerated had been life-changing for her. When her prayers were answered and he was released without charge she had immediately vowed to become more present in his life from that point on.
Whilst Chandler had not quite envisaged having his mother accompanying them all to the coast, he was grateful for both the free accommodation and her enthusiastic support. And so far, everything seemed to be working out rather well: With the exception of Ross and Joey's ridiculous debate, the atmosphere was upbeat and ebullient, and most importantly, Monica looked happy.
Chandler smiled as she rose from her seat and made her way towards him. She gave his hair a light ruffle as she came to stand behind the bar stool he was perched upon and wrapped her arms lovingly around his neck. Resting her chin on his shoulders, she told him softly, "I'm heading up to bed now".
He turned to land a peck on her cheek telling her, "Me too".
He caught his mother's eye, as she regarded the two of them fondly, and he grinned back at her as she shot him an affectionate wink.
When he braved a furtive glance towards Ross, he was warmed to see that he had not so much as averted his eyes from this small display of affection: Only a few weeks ago he would have stood up and moved away, rather than witness his sister instigate even the slightest amount of physical contact with Chandler.
He swigged back the last dregs of his beer and disposed the bottle before taking Monica's hand and bidding everyone goodnight.
And that was that: No sneaking around, no looks of disapproval, no drama, no discord.
A warm glow of relief engulfed his heart as Monica beamed up at him, knowing that she too was reveling in the absolute ecstasy of everything feeling so extraordinarily normal.
As Monica wandered towards the super king size bed from the sparkling en suite bathroom, she could not keep the excitement from her face. "This place is amazing, Chandler! Did you see how clean and white those tiles are? Do you think your mom's friend would let me move in forever?"
Her enthusiasm caused Chandler to chuckle, as his eyes raked over her with endearment and appreciation. Even when she was dressed in her comfiest pajamas and her skin was slick with night cream, it took his breath away to see this irresistible woman approach his bed.
She paused to peer out of the window towards the inky darkness of the ocean as it sparkled beneath the night sky. "And I can't wait to see this view in daylight! Great job calling shotgun on this room!" she praised, with an impressed grin.
Exhaling loudly, she flopped down next to Chandler, sinking luxuriantly into the plush goose down pillows, before settling against his shoulder and tilting her face towards him for a kiss, "Thank you so much for arranging this."
"It's good to get away." Chandler smiled, wiping a smudge of toothpaste from her chin with his thumb, before moving his hand to her head to begin massaging her scalp.
"It really is. I've been feeling pretty weird about facing this week." she admitted quietly, a frown suddenly bothering her forehead as she began to chew at her lip apprehensively.
"I had been dreading that trial so much, for so long. The idea of having his lawyers saying all of those awful things about me in front of everybody. " She shook her head in pain, "And having to say out loud, in front of all of those people, what he did to me."
Chandler felt her shudder against him, and he squeezed her tight as he felt a wave of residual agony pass through them both.
Having delighted in her lightheartedness and buoyancy all evening, it was disheartening for Chandler to see her suddenly so subdued. But he knew only too well that she still held an avalanche of trauma within herself, and he was always incredibly grateful when she found the strength to talk about it and let just a little of it go. He regarded her with tender patience, allowing her to continue at her own pace.
"I know I should feel so relieved that I don't have to go through with the trial. And I do... In a way. But I also feel kind of cheated, you know?"
Chandler nodded his understanding, continuing to comb his fingers soothingly through her silky hair.
"I really wanted everyone to know what he did, Chandler. I wanted everybody to know that I was telling the truth" she gave a deep sigh of frustration.
"Everyone knows, Mon" he reassured her gently, "Everyone that matters. And plenty that don't matter too: Even that godawful Detective Connor implied that him and Rossi, and the other cops all knew Pete was guilty. The bastard's sister even knew it in the end".
She considered his words in thoughtful silence before regarding him with curiosity as he eventually cleared his throat nervously. "I wanted to ask you something about that actually, Mon"
"I didn't want to be the one to bring up Lucy," he said quietly, as he eyed her anxiously, "But, I need to know: Are you OK with the fact I didn't go to the police about what she said about pushing him? I mean, she obviously hasn't told them, and I think that might be because I kind of encouraged her not to."
He glanced at her guiltily as he continued, "Honestly, at that moment, all I cared about was getting you out of that place. And I actually don't give a shit how Pete ended up at the bottom of those stairs, I think she did the world a favor, to be honest. But I do know what she put you through, and if you want me to tell the cops what she said, I will."
Monica shook her head resolutely, "No Chandler. I'm just glad it's over. And I'm grateful that I can be sure I never have to see him again."
"I actually feel kind of sorry for her. I can't imagine how it must feel to find out something like that about your own brother. That's one of the reasons I'm selling the restaurant shares back to his estate."
"Have you told your family about that yet?" Chandler queried.
"No" she replied a little glumly, "I know they will all give me hell for accepting such a low offer. But I just really need a fresh start."
"I'm sure they will understand that." Chandler consoled, "And when you open your next place, they will be so proud."
"I mean there's no way I will be able to open anything anywhere near as impressive as Javu," she acknowledged, "But, I think I could do something small and intimate, in a less fancy neighborhood, a nice little bistro or something? And I think I'd like that."
Chandler saw a brief flash of excitement and inspiration light up her her face, and it caused a smile of satisfaction to spread across his own. Knowing that her experience with Pete had not been able to extinguish her ambition or quell her lifelong passion for cooking made his soul feel lighter.
He would never dream of offering Monica unsolicited career advice, but Chandler had always secretly questioned how long she would feel creatively fulfilled by the executive position Pete had encouraged her towards at Javu. He had always suspected, somewhat cynically perhaps, that the reason Pete had urged her towards a less hands-on, more managerial role, was less about Monica's own career progression and more because the late nights and long hours so often required of a chef, would have been inconvenient for him: Pete's own business would always take precedence and he undoubtedly wanted a romantic partner who could make herself available to him at his whim.
Chandler could just imagine Monica cooking up a storm in a smaller, less pretentious kitchen, with the complete freedom to mold the place to fit her own personal vision, and he felt a tremor of excitement on her behalf. He knew she had both the creative flair and the required grit to build an incredible business on her own terms.
"You'll be amazing at that." he affirmed with genuine confidence.
Monica traced her fingers absentmindedly across his chest as she whispered sadly "I almost feel guilty that everything is going in the right direction for me now. I keep thinking about Sofia... I really hope she is OK. And I hope she knows she will never have to see him again."
Chandler held her tight, frustrated by her inability to stop worrying about others and put herself first, but loving her so fiercely for it in equal measure.
"You said she was living in some commune in Europe right?" he asked her gently, "I mean, that sounds pretty good to me, Mon. I'll bet she's happy".
"I hope so.." she wistfully replied.
"In fact, maybe we should stick a pin in the restaurant idea and do something like that instead? Leave the hustle and bustle of the city behind us; get back to nature; camp out under the stars" Chandler glanced down at her and arched a suggestive eyebrow "Dance naked around a fire..."
Monica let out a small laugh, "I'm not sure that's really my scene, baby. Maybe you should ask Phoebe to go with you."
Her eyes became serious once more and she paused for a moment before turning to look directly into his face. "You know what? Even though it was one of the most terrifying things that has ever happened to me, and even though it caused us so much pain, I'm glad I got to see him, face to face, one last time."
Chandler swallowed hard and had to avert his gaze from hers for a second. The idea of her standing in that office being threatened by that monster still sent chills of horror down his spine. He caressed her cheek tenderly as he looked back at her and observed a sheen of tears glimmer in her eyes. But it gratified him to note that behind her tears, that fiery determination that he so admired and adored, remained intact.
"I'm glad I got the chance to stand up to him, and tell him a few home truths," she contemplated resolutely, "And I got to escape him. I think that has helped me a lot."
"You're incredible, you know that?" he murmured as he placed a soft, lingering kiss against her temple.
"And I'm really glad I got to knee him in the balls."
The deathly seriousness with which she delivered that final sentence, combined with the steely, faraway look in her eyes caused Chandler let out an unintentional guffaw, before snickering an apology against her hair, "I'm so sorry, honey, I know it's not funny. I just was not expecting you to say that!"
She turned to him with a rueful smirk and allowed herself a bit of a chuckle too.
"And just for the record." Chandler confirmed, as he wrapped both of his arms lovingly around her, drawing her body as close to his as he possibly could, "I'm really glad you got to knee him in the balls too".
"How far exactly is this perfect place you spotted? Because I may need to stop for a moment to pop my arms back into their sockets if it's much further" Chandler admonished grumpily as he momentarily set down the cooler he was carrying, wiped his brow and rubbed his shoulders theatrically, to lend weight to his words.
"Oh my God, you're such a baby! Just let me carry it!" Monica rolled her eyes in exasperation, and reached over to make a grab for the picnic box as they snaked their way along an undulating path through the sand dunes in search of a suitable place to enjoy their lunch.
"No! I can take it!" Chandler protested, hanging on to the box tightly, unwilling to relinquish control of the manly task in hand.
"Look, it's just there," Monica pointed to an area 100 yards ahead of them, where the beach grass seemed to grow more sparsely and the curve of the surrounding dunes formed a bowl shape.
"It's perfect! We'll have a beautiful view of the beach but the dunes will shelter us from the wind," she assured him. "Now come on Champ! Look lively! We're almost there!"
After a few days of non-stop socializing with their friends, Chandler and Monica were keen to enjoy a few hours of alone time, so the two of them had decided to steal away from the rest of the gang for an afternoon of picnicking and sunbathing. But settling on a mutually agreeable location had proved challenging.
Chandler huffed and trudged along behind her as she nimbly navigated her way towards the idyllic spot she had espied. He could feel beads of sweat forming on his forehead as the sun beat down upon his tiring limbs, but despite his discomfort he could not prevent his lips from curling indulgently as he watched her: Her hair whipped around her face in the sea breeze, the sun kissed her lightly freckled shoulders, and she made her way across the sand so enthusiastically she was almost skipping. It made his heart swell to see her so vibrant, happy and purposeful.
As the path opened out in front of them to reveal the flat area Monica had picked out from their former, higher vantage point, she stopped and stood, hands on hips, a triumphant grin on her face "See? Perfect!" she told him.
Chandler dropped the cooler onto the sand and shook out the plaid woolen blanket he had tucked beneath his arm. "Yeah it's alright," he conceded reluctantly, "But I still don't see what was wrong with the places I chose..."
Monica narrowed her eyes and shook her head sardonically, "Yeah I'm not sure which of your suggestions appealed to me more ... The place overlooking the 90 year old man sunbathing in a thong, or that romantic spot next to the rotting bird corpse..." she shot him a sarcastic glare, her lips betraying a wry smile.
He pulled a face and put on a ridiculous mocking voice, "Oh of course, Princess Monica's too fancy to eat next to a dead seagull!"
She chuckled and gave him a playful shove that turned out to be adequately hard to cause him to topple backwards onto the blanket.
"Owww!" he protested dramatically, "Who does that?!"
He retaliated by wrapping both arms around her thighs in a kind of rugby tackle, causing her fall with a shriek, landing next to him on the blanket, their limbs in a tangle.
After the events of the last year, having the opportunity to be silly and playful with his favorite person felt unbelievably joyful to Chandler. God, he just loved hanging out with her. He even loved bickering with her: Watching her roll her eyes at his quips as she struggled to keep her lips from curving into a smile, seeing her intelligent eyes dance with amusement as she threw some witty retort right back at him. Nobody could read him and respond to him the way she could.
As they continued their high-spirited wrestle on the blanket, Chandler began to tickle her ribs, enjoying the throaty giggle it elicited, until she begged "Stop!"
He ceased immediately and drew her into a bear hug, planting a kiss onto the top of her head.
Monica felt an intense rush of love course through her heart at his instant reaction to her plea: His awareness of, and sensitivity towards her boundaries and consent, even in play, was unspoken but unwavering. After the events of last year, being able to trust in someone so implicitly was something she had doubted she would ever be able to do again. She slid her arms around him and pulled him as tightly towards her as she possibly could.
Chandler returned her squeeze, tracing his fingers over her smooth shoulders, pausing to ping at the strap of her green bikini that had been revealed by her now disheveled sundress.
"New bathing suit?" has asked her approvingly, already looking forward to being able to inspect it more thoroughly.
"Yeah" she replied archly, "I decided not to bring my "Baywatch red" one. Thought I could do without you comparing me with Yasmine Bleeth all week long."
"Oh Honey, you don't need to be jealous of Yasmine!" he teased as he nuzzled the sensitive skin of her neck, "You know I would pick you almost every time".
She gave him a jesting but scolding prod.
"Enough of your cheek, Bing! Now, how about grabbing me one of those beers those strong arms of yours carried all the way down here? " she suggested with a mischievous grin.
He acquiesced, reaching across the blanket, dragging the cooler towards them, lifting his arm and flexing his bicep in her direction with an accompanying mock-sexy pout.
Monica sat up and drew her knees up to her chin, gazing across the beach as Chandler twisted off the cap from a thankfully still icy bottle of beer, offering it to Monica before sourcing a second bottle for himself.
She flashed him a smile of gratitude, taking a refreshing swig of the cool amber liquid before returning her gaze to the ocean.
She suddenly had a distant look in her eyes.
"You OK?" Chandler checked, running a gentle finger down the back of her arm, in an attempt to bring her back to the present. As much as he was conscious of being too protective and overbearing and tried to be wary of smothering her, he could still not help but worry when he saw her glaze over or retreat into herself. He was only too aware of the dark corners that must now exist in her mind and he was endlessly keen to shield her from them at all costs.
She turned to look at him, a wistful smile appearing on her face as she nodded.
"Yeah" she assured him, "I'm better than OK."
She sighed deeply. "You know, there were times this year where I genuinely could not imagine ever being able to feel happy again. I honestly thought that was it for me. That I would never be able to escape what had happened. That I would never be able to move on. " Sadness clouded her eyes as she allowed her mind to momentarily revisit her trauma.
Chandler resisted the urge to pull her immediately towards him and into a comforting embrace, knowing that she needed this space to speak. He remained silent and regarded her tenderly as he waited for her to continue.
"But here I am now... Here we are." she corrected herself with a grin, looking into his eyes with sincerity, "And I honestly don't think I've ever been happier, Chandler."
She grazed her fingers softly over his cheek "Thank you" she murmured huskily, "For being there for me, through everything. I couldn't have got through it without you".
"You're the most incredible person I've ever met, you know that?" he told her "The bravest, the strongest. How you've come through all of this... You're just amazing Monica. I'm so proud of you. I'm completely in awe of you in fact. And you really do make me feel like the luckiest guy in the world."
She smiled shyly back at him.
"Marry me."
Monica's eyebrows arched in surprise and her mouth gaped open a little as the words fell spontaneously from Chandler's lips.
"What?" she whispered.
Chandler looked momentarily as shocked as she did, but as he stared back into her wide blue eyes, a sudden look of clarity appeared on his face.
He had spent so much of his life unable to imagine this moment. The notion that he would ever find somebody that he would want to commit to forever had felt so remote; and the idea that any such woman would want to live out her days with him seemed less likely still; the very concept of marriage had come to scare him almost as much as the idea of being alone until the end of time. It was this fear of permanent loneliness that had inspired his desperate and halfhearted proposal of marriage to Kathy, and he had subsequently spent the entirety of their engagement trying not to think about how he would cope with the wedding and married life beyond.
But with Monica, it was clear, simple and pure: She was his best friend, his favorite person, his whole world. Of course he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.
He knew with absolute certainty, that he never wanted to endure a single day without her huge, generous heart; her nurturing disposition; her acerbic wit; her fiery temper; her bravery; her seemingly infinite patience for his various neurosis. And though he would never quite understand how he could be so lucky that this spectacular woman loved him back authentically, and accepted him completely and without judgement, he trusted that she did.
The idea of marrying Monica did not terrify Chandler in the slightest. He had learned from bitter experience that the real terror arose from the idea of not being able to wake up next to her every day.
"Will you marry me?" he repeated more steadily, gazing deeply into her astonished eyes, "I didn't plan this, I don't even have a ring, I'm sorry. But I do mean it, Monica. It would mean the world to me if you would agree to marry me. I love you more than I ever thought it was possible to love another person, and all I want in this world is to spend the rest of my life with you."
Monica was rendered temporarily speechless.
Chandler chuckled as he observed her discernible shock, and looked a little embarrassed as he intertwined his fingers with hers and brought them to his lips for a kiss. "I'm sorry. I know this isn't the perfect romantic proposal. I will ask you again, when I have a ring and champagne, maybe in some fancy restaurant. You really don't have to say anything now... I just looked at you, and it kind of slipped out. And I guess I just want you to know that's where I am. That's how I feel about you. About us."
Monica smiled down at the cold beer in her hand, taking note of the beads of condensation that were dripping onto her sundress; she allowed her eyes to roam slowly over the pale golden expanse of sandy beach below; gazed at the aquamarine waves crashing relentlessly onto the shore; she licked her lips, tasting the faint hint of salt from the fresh sea breeze. She was determined to commit every minuscule detail of this moment to her memory for all eternity.
Finally she faced Chandler, looking intensely into those eyes that were an almost identical blue to to the ocean. "I don't need grand gestures Chandler. I don't need champagne or fancy rings. This -" she gestured around them, "This is perfect. And you're perfect. Perfect for me." Her face dissolved into a wide smile of unfiltered joy, and both sets of eyes glistened with the happiest of tears.
"Yes" she told him simply, kneeling up on the blanket and drawing his body flush against hers, and threading her fingers through his hair, "Yes, of course I'll marry you".
As he cupped her face tenderly in his hands she let out a small ecstatic whimper of emotion that was soon smothered by the softness of his lips caressing hers.
Monica had spent so much of this year struggling to get through one day at a time, she had felt almost trapped in the present: The future had felt too horrifically uncertain to contemplate and the past was just too brutal to revisit.
But now, as she melted into the blissful intensity of Chandler's kiss and basked in the rapturous perfection of this moment, Monica felt a euphoric surge of hope.
She finally dared to dream of what the future might hold again: She could imagine the beautiful wedding; the successful new restaurant; the house with the white picket fence; the pregnancy cravings; the hurried and fraught school runs; the soccer games that she knew her competitive personality would find a real struggle; the dance recitals that would inevitably make her cry.
None of these things were guaranteed, of course: Monica knew better than most that life was anything but predictable. But all of her dreams certainly felt within touching distance now. And the one thing she knew she could be sure of, was the man who would be right there with her through it all. Her lover, her soulmate, her anchor, her support. Her best friend.
And this was what led her to understand that the painful scars of the past carried their own kind of beauty.
Because even if none of her hopes came to pass, even if life lead them down an entirely different path, she had come to understand with absolute conviction, that no matter what the cosmos had in store for the two of them, there was nothing that could break them or tear them apart. Their love was an indomitable and unstoppable force.
For as long as his hand was in hers, there was no mountain they could not climb, no storm they could not weather, no demon they could not defeat.
Together, they could take on the world.
THE END
A/N I really hope you all liked the ending and that I didn't leave too many gaping plot holes!
I can't believe I finished it!
I decided to write this last Christmas, when it occurred to me that despite writing being one of my favorite things to do as a child, I had not written a single piece of fiction in well over 20 years. I really wanted to see if I actually had it in me to construct and finish a story, but I certainly never imagined that I would hit almost 100k words, much less that it would have over 10k hits and so many reviews - I really have been totally blown away!
I highly doubt I would have maintained the momentum to complete this without all of the kind words of encouragement I have received, so huge thanks to everybody who has stuck with this, and particularly anybody who has left me a message or comment: You have made this such an enjoyable and inspiring experience, far beyond what I was expecting.
It was only ever my intention to write one story on here, but I have had such a blast that I am starting to think I could try another. (After all, I failed to deliver a Mondler baby, which seems to be a bit of a rite of passage ;-) )
Anyway, I will stop rambling on like some kind of over-excited Oscar winner now, but thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for reading!