Rain had fallen sometime during the surreal visit to Richard's apartment,
and as Monica stepped out of the air-conditioned lobby and into the warm,
spring evening, the fresh air acted as a metaphorical dash of cold water
across her face. This whole day had been a confusing mess. She'd woken up
with Chandler's arms wrapped around her, kissing him and heading off to
work with her life in perfect order. Then at lunchtime… everything had
turned upside down. Richard's sudden appearance and vow of love had been
out of left field, especially since seeing him at dinner the night before
had been uncomfortable at best. Then Chandler and his baffling marriage
talk… it was as though he'd become a different person overnight, so
completely incongruous with the man she'd fallen in love with, the man who
had initiated nearly every step along their relationship's path. Mr.
Commitment Phobic had turned his life around when he had fallen for her,
and now he was moving backwards? No future for them, not even the
possibility of marriage? Hell, they'd been ready to take the plunge nearly
a year ago in Vegas! It was as though the universe had decided to play one
big cosmic joke on her today, conspiring with fate's twisted sense of humor
to send her stumbling back into her ex-boyfriend's arms.
Had she nearly kissed him back there? Had she nearly kissed another man?
"Oh, god," Monica said softly, feeling sick to her stomach as she stepped to the curb to hail a taxi.
No matter what Chandler had said to her that day, no matter how absurd he was acting, that was no excuse – NO excuse – for her to be ready to cheat on him. Not until they sat down, talked, and figured this whole thing out. Going to Richard had been irrational and immature, that much was glaringly obvious now. She winced as she remembered her sharp words to Joey earlier in the day – "Well, there are some people who DO want to marry me!" What was this, junior high school? This was her LIFE, and she'd better stop acting like some sort of drama queen before she ended up losing everything that mattered.
The cab ride to her neighborhood in the Village seemed to take forever. Dark, rain soaked streets slid by outside the window, and she stared sightlessly forward, her stomach knotted and her head aching. The universe seemed askew when she and Chandler were fighting. Black was white and up was down and nothing mattered until they were able to set things right again. She loved him so much. A year and a half ago, admitting that to herself had been frightening and exhilarating all at once, but admitting it to him… that had been the most monumental thing she had ever done. Somehow, she'd known even then that she'd sealed the deal with her words. It was a lifelong promise she'd made.
She'd thought he felt the same.
They halted in front of her apartment building, and she exited the car, paying the cab driver and barely acknowledging his polite "have a good night, ma'am." A glance into Central Perk revealed that none of her friends had chosen to have a cup of coffee after work – either that, or they weren't yet home. She had to smile faintly as she noticed that the couch and chairs where they always sat remained empty. Her little group had staked a claim on those seats years ago, and it seemed to be common knowledge to the other coffee house regulars by now.
As she trudged up the stairwell, she took several deep breaths, composing in her head what she wanted to say to Chandler. He couldn't be serious with his 'no marriage' clause. He couldn't. It had to be just another Chandleresque phase he was going through, a momentary relapse in his newfound maturity. She'd just back off for a while, and let things return to normal.
No matter what he said, she couldn't lose him. They were meant for each other and that was not an option. Whatever it took, however long it took, she'd make him see that.
Monica paused outside of her apartment, hand hovering just above the doorknob. Just be casual, she told herself. Don't freak him out even more. She squared her shoulders, preparing for what she thought would be a difficult confrontation.
However, when the door swung open, it revealed nothing more than an empty, darkened apartment.
"Damn it, Chandler," she whispered, shaking her head and throwing her purse down on the table. "Where are you?"
She slumped into a chair at the kitchen table, resting her head in her hands and feeling her headache return, a dull, steady pounding just behind her left eye. A stress headache, and one not likely to go away until she'd had a good night's sleep.
This day just kept getting better and better.
Hearing the door across the hall open and close, she lifted her head and brushed away the tears that were clinging to her lashes. Joey back from his Gilligan's Island fantasy, most likely. He'd be over soon, probably expecting a typical night for the three – now four - of them. Her at the stove cooking dinner, he and Chandler teasing her good-naturedly from the living room, bantering about sports statistics and tossing their stupid Nerf football back and forth. And Phoebe yelling at them to shut up while she played the guitar in her room. Like this was any normal day…
Had she been taking that normalcy for granted?
Monica couldn't suppress a wave of dread. What if Chandler WAS serious about this marriage stuff? What if he never saw their relationship going any further than this? Could she be satisfied with that, or would this relationship end like so many others? Like Richard?
"No," she whispered, shaking her head. Not Chandler. She couldn't lose the best thing that ever happened to her. She'd do whatever it took to keep them together.
Because the alternative… not only would she be losing the love of her life, she'd be losing her best friend as well.
There was a cursory knock at the door, causing her to stand up abruptly as Joey walked in. He stopped when he saw her, and she gave him a half- hearted smile.
"Mon, you're here," he said slowly, his eyes flicking past her – probably for any sign of her wayward boyfriend.
"He isn't here," she said quietly. "I don't know where he is."
Joey moved forward, laying a hand on her arm. "Monica, he went to look for you. I told him – I told him about Richard."
She felt a wave of panic wash over her. "What?" she asked, more sharply than she meant to. "What – Joey, what did you tell him?"
Joey dropped his eyes to the floor. "Mon, I'm sorry, but I couldn't just stand by and let this happen. It's a stupid misunderstanding, okay?"
"Joey, did you tell him Richard said he wanted to marry me?" Monica was horrified. What must he be thinking?
"Yes!" he burst out. "Yes, okay, I told him exactly what you told me. Mon, I had to get him to stop you! This is crazy!" He took a deep breath. "Monica, Chandler wants to marry you. And I'm sorry if that ruins the surprise or whatever, but this is messed up. The whole thing was fake. He was trying to throw you off the track, you know, with that anti-marriage stuff. He was going to propose to you last night, Monica. At the restaurant." His voice softened as he spoke the last two sentences.
Her hand went to her mouth, and she gaped at him. Of all the things she'd expected… that had to be the last. "What?" she whispered.
Joey sighed. "He had the ring and everything, Mon. It was all planned. He took you to your favorite restaurant and he was going to propose. And then Richard showed up. And he couldn't do it."
"He – he was going to propose?" Her eyes filled with tears as she stared at her old friend with a detached sense of wonderment.
"Yeah. Mon, if you could have seen him… he was so excited. And nervous... He had Phoebe help him pick out the ring last week, and he hasn't been able to talk about anything else since. Of course, neither has Rachel."
Through her haze of shock, Monica suddenly remembered how strangely her friends had been acting yesterday and the day before. Two days ago, she and Rachel had gone shopping, and Rachel had made a comment as they passed a bridal shop that had, of course, passed under her radar at the time.
"You remember when we were about six years old, Mon," she'd said suddenly, pausing in front of the shop and practically bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet with some sort of nervous energy, "we promised we'd be the maid of honor at each other's wedding?"
Monica had paused, shifting the Bloomingdale's bag to her other hand and studying her friend curiously. "No," she'd said, "if I remember right you wanted to be the flower girl at mine, because you wanted to sprinkle the rose petals down the aisle."
Rachel had laughed. "Oh, right," she'd said, even as her face fell slightly. "Well, I want you to be maid of honor at my wedding, Monica," she'd offered grandly. "And I won't take no for an answer."
Monica had crossed her arms, staring at her in amusement. "Are you getting married soon, Rachel? I'd love to meet the guy."
And Rachel had made some vague comment about never knowing when the right guy would come along, hustling them on to the next store…
Then yesterday morning at breakfast, when they'd all seemed to be sneaking little glances at her for no discernible reason; she'd thought she was going insane until she caught Joey at it.
"What, Joey?" she'd demanded, more than a little pissed off by then. "Is my hair sticking up? Do I have something on my face? Is there a reason why you all keep looking at me when you don't think I'm paying attention?"
For some reason Chandler had dropped his fork then with a loud clatter, and she'd looked over to see him glaring at the rest of them. They'd returned to their breakfast with apologetic mumbles and guilty expressions, and Phoebe had abruptly started a conversation about her last psychic reading while Monica sat there feeling as though she'd walked into a movie when it was already halfway through.
And last night… their weird behavior before she and Chandler had left for dinner; Rachel's emotional hug and Phoebe's knowing smile. For some reason, other than the fact that it was odd, it hadn't really struck any chord with her. She'd been looking forward to the evening ahead; it had been nearly a month since she and Chandler had had a romantic dinner out, and she was determined not to let any of her friends spoil that. Of course later on, her mind had been churning with the unexpectedness of seeing Richard again, and in the cab on the way back she'd taken Chandler's hand, silently asking forgiveness for her confused behavior at the restaurant – realizing too late that she'd spoiled their romantic evening herself.
He had seemed moody and distracted; unwilling to talk. She'd thought it was just because of Richard, but now…
"Let me see your hand," she said suddenly, eyes widening with the perceptiveness that Joey's revelation had given her. "Was that what that was all about? I was sure you guys had had a few too many drinks at the benefit or something."
"We were all expecting you two to come back engaged," Joey admitted, sticking his hands in his pockets and sighing. "I guess the no marriage thing was a bad idea, but Phoebe and I kinda encouraged him on that one, so don't be too mad at him, okay?"
"Mad?" Monica repeated. Good lord, how could she be mad? She was absolutely floored. Practically all her life, she'd been waiting for this to happen. For a long time she never thought it would. And now she'd almost missed out on it… while the love of her life was out there trying to win back what he had never lost.
"No, Joey," she said quietly. "This was my fault. Not Chandler's."
"Mon…"
The telephone rang before he could finish, and she gazed at him for a long moment before he finally, reluctantly nodded. Giving him a short nod in return, she reached for the phone before the machine could pick up.
"Chandler?" she asked cautiously, crossing her fingers.
"No, it's Rachel," her friend's cheerful voice responded.
Monica's shoulders slumped. "Hey Rach. You haven't seen Chandler around anywhere, have you?"
"Nope. I'm still at work, up to my elbows in paperwork. Why, have you lost him?"
"Hopefully not," Monica said quietly, responding with utter seriousness even though she knew her friend had been joking.
Rachel's tone suddenly took on a hesitant note. "What's wrong, Mon?"
Monica sighed, rubbing her eyes and slumping onto the back of the couch. "I think I may have ruined everything," she said bleakly. "Richard came to see me today. He told me he loved me. I was so confused, and Chandler was acting so strange – I didn't know it was all a plan then, I didn't know, and so I went to Richard's this afternoon and he wanted to me 'think things over'. And I don't WANT to think things over, I already know what I want, but Chandler doesn't know and he thinks I'm with Richard or something, he thinks I'm gonna marry him! And he's probably over there right now, and… god… he'll know that I was there… and then what will he think, Rach?"
"Monica, whoa. Wait a minute." Rachel's voice was deadly serious. "Are you telling me that Richard said he wants to marry you? And Chandler knows about this?"
"Yes," she groaned. "And I know about Chandler, how he was gonna propose –
"You know?"
"Joey told me just now." She sighed softly. "He's out there, Rach. He's out there and this is all my fault. What am I going to do?"
Rachel was silent for a long moment. "I don't know, Mon," she said finally, "but you're going to have to make it up to him in a big way. That is if it's still Chandler you want to be with –
"Of COURSE it's Chandler," Monica said emphatically, lowering her voice when Joey looked startled.
"Well, then, I can tell you he's probably hurt pretty bad. He loves you so much, Mon, and I – I've never seen him like he was last week. He was so looking forward to this; he knew what a big deal this was to you and he wanted it to be so special."
"Do you think he'll still want to marry me now?" Monica whispered, her heart aching.
"I – I don't know," Rachel said reluctantly.
Monica closed her eyes, taking a deep, long breath. "Okay," she said finally. "Okay. Well, in case he doesn't want to ask me anymore, I'll just have to ask him."
Joey stared at her for a moment before a slow grin broke out over his face. He nodded, giving her a thumbs up sign as Rachel voiced her approval over the phone.
"Wow," she said, a note of excitement creeping into her voice. "What are you gonna do?"
"I don't know. I don't know, but you said it yourself, it has to be a big gesture. I – I need to do this as soon as possible, as soon as he comes home. Maybe put some music on, candlelight, I don't know…" She was rambling, thinking out loud as she scrambled desperately for ideas.
"It has to be really romantic," Rachel said. "Maybe lots of candles. I know Phoebe's got tons in her room at your place, and there's a Wicks 'n' Sticks just down the block from work, I can go right now."
Monica glanced around the apartment, imagining how it would look with candlelight flickering on every surface, something he'd hopefully remember all his life –
"Okay. Do you have money? Buy as many as you can, I promise I'll pay you back. Just hurry. And thanks, Rach."
"You're welcome. Don't worry, I'll be there as soon as I can!" Rachel hung up the phone, obviously giddy with the part she got to play in this.
Monica clicked the off button, tossing the phone carelessly onto the sofa and turning to face Joey again, face lit with excitement. "I'm gonna put candles everywhere," she said. "Rachel's bringing some, and she says Phoebe's got loads in her room. We can move this table over there, and close the curtains maybe… and then you need to stand outside in the hallway and make sure Chandler doesn't come in before I'm done. Can you do that?"
"Consider it done," Joey said, smiling. "Do you think I should tell him –
He was cut off abruptly when the door to the apartment swung open. They both turned around, Monica's pulse hammering in her ears –
"Hey, guys." Phoebe peered curiously at them, arms laden with shopping bags. "Wow, it's dark in here. What's going on?"
Monica sighed with relief, "Phoebe, thank god it's just you. Listen. I'm going to need your help…"
Twenty minutes later nearly all of Phoebe's candle collection was lit and displayed around the room. The candles flickered alluringly against the walls, throwing disproportionate shadows across the floor. Phoebe and Monica sat quietly at the kitchen table, each armed with a lighter. Joey stood guard outside, making sure the next person to enter the apartment was Rachel.
Both girls jumped as the door opened again, and Monica's shoulders slumped in relief when she saw Rachel standing there with the promised candle supply.
"Oh, Rach, you are a lifesaver," she said, hurrying across the room to hug her friend as Rachel gazed at the apartment around her.
"This looks great, Mon. Really romantic," she said. "What can I do to help?"
Phoebe tossed a book of matches at her. "Just start lighting. He'll probably get back soon, and when he does, we need to be out of here."
When, Monica reminded herself, squeezing her eyes shut briefly and taking comfort in her friend's confidence. Not if.
He was coming home. He was. And everything was going to be okay… she'd just keep saying it to herself until she believed it.
"Okay," she murmured, opening her eyes and focusing on her friends, who were watching her expectantly. "Let's get to work." She lifted a candle from one of the bags, and carefully lit the wick.
--
The door to the building swung open, and he moved through the brightly lit lobby, his heart pounding rapidly. He'd taken a cab here from Richard's, but from the adrenaline racing through his system, you'd think he'd run the forty or so blocks.
As he climbed the stairs, he found himself rehearsing what he was going to say. The ring box weighed heavily in his left pocket, and he curved his fingers around it protectively. His life depended on this ring, on whether or not she wanted to wear it as her own. His entire future rested solely in her hands now. But he wasn't going to let her go without a fight.
As he turned the final corner on the landing, he prayed she wouldn't be the last woman to break his heart.
--
AN: And of course, you all know what happens next! I needed a break from the other story, so I wrote this in about an hour this afternoon. If it seems a little rushed to you, that's why. Whether you liked it or you thought it sucked, please don't hesitate to let me know. Thanks!
Had she nearly kissed him back there? Had she nearly kissed another man?
"Oh, god," Monica said softly, feeling sick to her stomach as she stepped to the curb to hail a taxi.
No matter what Chandler had said to her that day, no matter how absurd he was acting, that was no excuse – NO excuse – for her to be ready to cheat on him. Not until they sat down, talked, and figured this whole thing out. Going to Richard had been irrational and immature, that much was glaringly obvious now. She winced as she remembered her sharp words to Joey earlier in the day – "Well, there are some people who DO want to marry me!" What was this, junior high school? This was her LIFE, and she'd better stop acting like some sort of drama queen before she ended up losing everything that mattered.
The cab ride to her neighborhood in the Village seemed to take forever. Dark, rain soaked streets slid by outside the window, and she stared sightlessly forward, her stomach knotted and her head aching. The universe seemed askew when she and Chandler were fighting. Black was white and up was down and nothing mattered until they were able to set things right again. She loved him so much. A year and a half ago, admitting that to herself had been frightening and exhilarating all at once, but admitting it to him… that had been the most monumental thing she had ever done. Somehow, she'd known even then that she'd sealed the deal with her words. It was a lifelong promise she'd made.
She'd thought he felt the same.
They halted in front of her apartment building, and she exited the car, paying the cab driver and barely acknowledging his polite "have a good night, ma'am." A glance into Central Perk revealed that none of her friends had chosen to have a cup of coffee after work – either that, or they weren't yet home. She had to smile faintly as she noticed that the couch and chairs where they always sat remained empty. Her little group had staked a claim on those seats years ago, and it seemed to be common knowledge to the other coffee house regulars by now.
As she trudged up the stairwell, she took several deep breaths, composing in her head what she wanted to say to Chandler. He couldn't be serious with his 'no marriage' clause. He couldn't. It had to be just another Chandleresque phase he was going through, a momentary relapse in his newfound maturity. She'd just back off for a while, and let things return to normal.
No matter what he said, she couldn't lose him. They were meant for each other and that was not an option. Whatever it took, however long it took, she'd make him see that.
Monica paused outside of her apartment, hand hovering just above the doorknob. Just be casual, she told herself. Don't freak him out even more. She squared her shoulders, preparing for what she thought would be a difficult confrontation.
However, when the door swung open, it revealed nothing more than an empty, darkened apartment.
"Damn it, Chandler," she whispered, shaking her head and throwing her purse down on the table. "Where are you?"
She slumped into a chair at the kitchen table, resting her head in her hands and feeling her headache return, a dull, steady pounding just behind her left eye. A stress headache, and one not likely to go away until she'd had a good night's sleep.
This day just kept getting better and better.
Hearing the door across the hall open and close, she lifted her head and brushed away the tears that were clinging to her lashes. Joey back from his Gilligan's Island fantasy, most likely. He'd be over soon, probably expecting a typical night for the three – now four - of them. Her at the stove cooking dinner, he and Chandler teasing her good-naturedly from the living room, bantering about sports statistics and tossing their stupid Nerf football back and forth. And Phoebe yelling at them to shut up while she played the guitar in her room. Like this was any normal day…
Had she been taking that normalcy for granted?
Monica couldn't suppress a wave of dread. What if Chandler WAS serious about this marriage stuff? What if he never saw their relationship going any further than this? Could she be satisfied with that, or would this relationship end like so many others? Like Richard?
"No," she whispered, shaking her head. Not Chandler. She couldn't lose the best thing that ever happened to her. She'd do whatever it took to keep them together.
Because the alternative… not only would she be losing the love of her life, she'd be losing her best friend as well.
There was a cursory knock at the door, causing her to stand up abruptly as Joey walked in. He stopped when he saw her, and she gave him a half- hearted smile.
"Mon, you're here," he said slowly, his eyes flicking past her – probably for any sign of her wayward boyfriend.
"He isn't here," she said quietly. "I don't know where he is."
Joey moved forward, laying a hand on her arm. "Monica, he went to look for you. I told him – I told him about Richard."
She felt a wave of panic wash over her. "What?" she asked, more sharply than she meant to. "What – Joey, what did you tell him?"
Joey dropped his eyes to the floor. "Mon, I'm sorry, but I couldn't just stand by and let this happen. It's a stupid misunderstanding, okay?"
"Joey, did you tell him Richard said he wanted to marry me?" Monica was horrified. What must he be thinking?
"Yes!" he burst out. "Yes, okay, I told him exactly what you told me. Mon, I had to get him to stop you! This is crazy!" He took a deep breath. "Monica, Chandler wants to marry you. And I'm sorry if that ruins the surprise or whatever, but this is messed up. The whole thing was fake. He was trying to throw you off the track, you know, with that anti-marriage stuff. He was going to propose to you last night, Monica. At the restaurant." His voice softened as he spoke the last two sentences.
Her hand went to her mouth, and she gaped at him. Of all the things she'd expected… that had to be the last. "What?" she whispered.
Joey sighed. "He had the ring and everything, Mon. It was all planned. He took you to your favorite restaurant and he was going to propose. And then Richard showed up. And he couldn't do it."
"He – he was going to propose?" Her eyes filled with tears as she stared at her old friend with a detached sense of wonderment.
"Yeah. Mon, if you could have seen him… he was so excited. And nervous... He had Phoebe help him pick out the ring last week, and he hasn't been able to talk about anything else since. Of course, neither has Rachel."
Through her haze of shock, Monica suddenly remembered how strangely her friends had been acting yesterday and the day before. Two days ago, she and Rachel had gone shopping, and Rachel had made a comment as they passed a bridal shop that had, of course, passed under her radar at the time.
"You remember when we were about six years old, Mon," she'd said suddenly, pausing in front of the shop and practically bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet with some sort of nervous energy, "we promised we'd be the maid of honor at each other's wedding?"
Monica had paused, shifting the Bloomingdale's bag to her other hand and studying her friend curiously. "No," she'd said, "if I remember right you wanted to be the flower girl at mine, because you wanted to sprinkle the rose petals down the aisle."
Rachel had laughed. "Oh, right," she'd said, even as her face fell slightly. "Well, I want you to be maid of honor at my wedding, Monica," she'd offered grandly. "And I won't take no for an answer."
Monica had crossed her arms, staring at her in amusement. "Are you getting married soon, Rachel? I'd love to meet the guy."
And Rachel had made some vague comment about never knowing when the right guy would come along, hustling them on to the next store…
Then yesterday morning at breakfast, when they'd all seemed to be sneaking little glances at her for no discernible reason; she'd thought she was going insane until she caught Joey at it.
"What, Joey?" she'd demanded, more than a little pissed off by then. "Is my hair sticking up? Do I have something on my face? Is there a reason why you all keep looking at me when you don't think I'm paying attention?"
For some reason Chandler had dropped his fork then with a loud clatter, and she'd looked over to see him glaring at the rest of them. They'd returned to their breakfast with apologetic mumbles and guilty expressions, and Phoebe had abruptly started a conversation about her last psychic reading while Monica sat there feeling as though she'd walked into a movie when it was already halfway through.
And last night… their weird behavior before she and Chandler had left for dinner; Rachel's emotional hug and Phoebe's knowing smile. For some reason, other than the fact that it was odd, it hadn't really struck any chord with her. She'd been looking forward to the evening ahead; it had been nearly a month since she and Chandler had had a romantic dinner out, and she was determined not to let any of her friends spoil that. Of course later on, her mind had been churning with the unexpectedness of seeing Richard again, and in the cab on the way back she'd taken Chandler's hand, silently asking forgiveness for her confused behavior at the restaurant – realizing too late that she'd spoiled their romantic evening herself.
He had seemed moody and distracted; unwilling to talk. She'd thought it was just because of Richard, but now…
"Let me see your hand," she said suddenly, eyes widening with the perceptiveness that Joey's revelation had given her. "Was that what that was all about? I was sure you guys had had a few too many drinks at the benefit or something."
"We were all expecting you two to come back engaged," Joey admitted, sticking his hands in his pockets and sighing. "I guess the no marriage thing was a bad idea, but Phoebe and I kinda encouraged him on that one, so don't be too mad at him, okay?"
"Mad?" Monica repeated. Good lord, how could she be mad? She was absolutely floored. Practically all her life, she'd been waiting for this to happen. For a long time she never thought it would. And now she'd almost missed out on it… while the love of her life was out there trying to win back what he had never lost.
"No, Joey," she said quietly. "This was my fault. Not Chandler's."
"Mon…"
The telephone rang before he could finish, and she gazed at him for a long moment before he finally, reluctantly nodded. Giving him a short nod in return, she reached for the phone before the machine could pick up.
"Chandler?" she asked cautiously, crossing her fingers.
"No, it's Rachel," her friend's cheerful voice responded.
Monica's shoulders slumped. "Hey Rach. You haven't seen Chandler around anywhere, have you?"
"Nope. I'm still at work, up to my elbows in paperwork. Why, have you lost him?"
"Hopefully not," Monica said quietly, responding with utter seriousness even though she knew her friend had been joking.
Rachel's tone suddenly took on a hesitant note. "What's wrong, Mon?"
Monica sighed, rubbing her eyes and slumping onto the back of the couch. "I think I may have ruined everything," she said bleakly. "Richard came to see me today. He told me he loved me. I was so confused, and Chandler was acting so strange – I didn't know it was all a plan then, I didn't know, and so I went to Richard's this afternoon and he wanted to me 'think things over'. And I don't WANT to think things over, I already know what I want, but Chandler doesn't know and he thinks I'm with Richard or something, he thinks I'm gonna marry him! And he's probably over there right now, and… god… he'll know that I was there… and then what will he think, Rach?"
"Monica, whoa. Wait a minute." Rachel's voice was deadly serious. "Are you telling me that Richard said he wants to marry you? And Chandler knows about this?"
"Yes," she groaned. "And I know about Chandler, how he was gonna propose –
"You know?"
"Joey told me just now." She sighed softly. "He's out there, Rach. He's out there and this is all my fault. What am I going to do?"
Rachel was silent for a long moment. "I don't know, Mon," she said finally, "but you're going to have to make it up to him in a big way. That is if it's still Chandler you want to be with –
"Of COURSE it's Chandler," Monica said emphatically, lowering her voice when Joey looked startled.
"Well, then, I can tell you he's probably hurt pretty bad. He loves you so much, Mon, and I – I've never seen him like he was last week. He was so looking forward to this; he knew what a big deal this was to you and he wanted it to be so special."
"Do you think he'll still want to marry me now?" Monica whispered, her heart aching.
"I – I don't know," Rachel said reluctantly.
Monica closed her eyes, taking a deep, long breath. "Okay," she said finally. "Okay. Well, in case he doesn't want to ask me anymore, I'll just have to ask him."
Joey stared at her for a moment before a slow grin broke out over his face. He nodded, giving her a thumbs up sign as Rachel voiced her approval over the phone.
"Wow," she said, a note of excitement creeping into her voice. "What are you gonna do?"
"I don't know. I don't know, but you said it yourself, it has to be a big gesture. I – I need to do this as soon as possible, as soon as he comes home. Maybe put some music on, candlelight, I don't know…" She was rambling, thinking out loud as she scrambled desperately for ideas.
"It has to be really romantic," Rachel said. "Maybe lots of candles. I know Phoebe's got tons in her room at your place, and there's a Wicks 'n' Sticks just down the block from work, I can go right now."
Monica glanced around the apartment, imagining how it would look with candlelight flickering on every surface, something he'd hopefully remember all his life –
"Okay. Do you have money? Buy as many as you can, I promise I'll pay you back. Just hurry. And thanks, Rach."
"You're welcome. Don't worry, I'll be there as soon as I can!" Rachel hung up the phone, obviously giddy with the part she got to play in this.
Monica clicked the off button, tossing the phone carelessly onto the sofa and turning to face Joey again, face lit with excitement. "I'm gonna put candles everywhere," she said. "Rachel's bringing some, and she says Phoebe's got loads in her room. We can move this table over there, and close the curtains maybe… and then you need to stand outside in the hallway and make sure Chandler doesn't come in before I'm done. Can you do that?"
"Consider it done," Joey said, smiling. "Do you think I should tell him –
He was cut off abruptly when the door to the apartment swung open. They both turned around, Monica's pulse hammering in her ears –
"Hey, guys." Phoebe peered curiously at them, arms laden with shopping bags. "Wow, it's dark in here. What's going on?"
Monica sighed with relief, "Phoebe, thank god it's just you. Listen. I'm going to need your help…"
Twenty minutes later nearly all of Phoebe's candle collection was lit and displayed around the room. The candles flickered alluringly against the walls, throwing disproportionate shadows across the floor. Phoebe and Monica sat quietly at the kitchen table, each armed with a lighter. Joey stood guard outside, making sure the next person to enter the apartment was Rachel.
Both girls jumped as the door opened again, and Monica's shoulders slumped in relief when she saw Rachel standing there with the promised candle supply.
"Oh, Rach, you are a lifesaver," she said, hurrying across the room to hug her friend as Rachel gazed at the apartment around her.
"This looks great, Mon. Really romantic," she said. "What can I do to help?"
Phoebe tossed a book of matches at her. "Just start lighting. He'll probably get back soon, and when he does, we need to be out of here."
When, Monica reminded herself, squeezing her eyes shut briefly and taking comfort in her friend's confidence. Not if.
He was coming home. He was. And everything was going to be okay… she'd just keep saying it to herself until she believed it.
"Okay," she murmured, opening her eyes and focusing on her friends, who were watching her expectantly. "Let's get to work." She lifted a candle from one of the bags, and carefully lit the wick.
--
The door to the building swung open, and he moved through the brightly lit lobby, his heart pounding rapidly. He'd taken a cab here from Richard's, but from the adrenaline racing through his system, you'd think he'd run the forty or so blocks.
As he climbed the stairs, he found himself rehearsing what he was going to say. The ring box weighed heavily in his left pocket, and he curved his fingers around it protectively. His life depended on this ring, on whether or not she wanted to wear it as her own. His entire future rested solely in her hands now. But he wasn't going to let her go without a fight.
As he turned the final corner on the landing, he prayed she wouldn't be the last woman to break his heart.
--
AN: And of course, you all know what happens next! I needed a break from the other story, so I wrote this in about an hour this afternoon. If it seems a little rushed to you, that's why. Whether you liked it or you thought it sucked, please don't hesitate to let me know. Thanks!