Wow… I haven't updated in almost a year! I'm so sorry, once school started I completely forgot about this fanfic and then my laptop broke so I lost all my documents. I got a new one for my birthday and decided to go ahead and finish this one! I'm so unbelievably sorry for the huge delay! I really hope you'll enjoy this chapter, and once school gets out next week I promise to finish this story

I think it's pretty obvious by now that I don't own Friends.

"Fine, alright. Sure. Why not." Monica opened the door wider and gestured indoors.

"Wow." Chandler said, stepping inside. "Candles."

"Don't flatter yourself, Bing, the power went out." She smirked as she slammed the door.

He smiled uncertainly, obviously holding back. After a moment, Monica offered to sit down. "Sure." He mumbled, sitting down at an awkward distance from her on the couch. "So."

"What did you come here for Chandler?" Monica asked flat out. It was late. She was tired. She wasn't waiting any more for answers.

"I just… thought we should talk. You know, we can't avoid each other forever, and I feel like it puts a lot of stress of the group when we can't even be in the same room. And I… I missed you." Chandler kept his gaze aimed downward, avoiding Monica's stare.

She sighed. "So what did you really come here for?"

Chandler let out a soft laugh, looking up at her. "You never cease to see right through me." He smiled weakly and looked back to the floor, sinking a little. "I… just had a question."

"Yeah, and so do I." Monica whispered. "A lot of them." She faced him and he straightened up, raising his hands in surrender.

"Ask me anything, I will be honest." He said, pure sorrow dripping from his eyes.

Monica rolled her neck. "Well, I think we should start with the pretty obvious one." She turned to face the light show illuminating on the walls from the candles, the smile fading from her face.

He heaved a sigh and leaned back on the couch. "How did I not know this was coming?" He sighed again. "Look, if there's one thing I need, I need you to know, it's that I did not run away because of you. That is the farthest thing from it. I could never leave you."

"Yeah well you kind of did." Monica shot in.

Chandler flinched, he was growing more antsy by the minute. He chewed on his bottom lip, carefully contemplating his choice of words. No, he thought, I was not running away from marriage, from commitment, from… "My childhood." He mouthed inaudibly. "Monica, my whole life, I was never good enough. I was always a disappointment to everyone, especially my parents who, God help me, I loved more than anyone." He lowered his head and rubbed his eyes. "Ah, I guess it's more complicated than I thought."

The room remained silent to Chandler's dismay. He ran a sweaty hand through his greasy hair.

Chandler looked up at her, and she saw tears forming in his eyes. "It's just, I never thought I would be good enough for anyone. And then there was you. And I fell crazy in love with you and everything was perfect. I was so happy." He paused to smile. "I guess there's always been a screwed up part of me that thought it couldn't be possible for you to feel the same." He sighed, and leaned backwards into the couch, realizing he was going nowhere. "I guess what all this means is, I was afraid of putting too much of myself on the line, for you to realize a few years from now that you didn't care anymore. I figured it would hurt less if I just left now than later when I loved you even more." He closed his eyes and groaned. "Or I could just be sitting here making a big fool of myself."

Monica reached over a stroked the side of his hair. Shivers bolted down his spine, goosebumps breaking out, his heart flushing. "Chandler, I think it's time to go." She pulled her hand away.

"Look, you have the right to be mad, I get that. But I really need you to know that I'm sorry." He said feebly. He looked down, then back at Monica. The candle light was glowing on her skin, her perfect hair cascading down her shoulders.

"Chandler, that's it. I'm done. It doesn't matter how sorry you say you are because no one should ever have to go through what I went through last Saturday. Now I said it's time to go." She hoped she wasn't shaking as bad on the outside as she was inside.

"Then I'll come by tomorrow to pick up my stuff." He said quietly, straightening up. He began heading for the door, but as he was reaching for the knob, a voice called out behind him.

"Wait."

He whipped around, "What?" he asked hastily.

"You said… you said you had something to ask me. When you first came here. What was it?" Monica had her neck crooked around the couch.

"Oh. Right." His heart started pounding harder, he made his way back to the couch. "It was really nothing. I just wanted to know where exactly you were. Relationship wise." He cringed, not expecting it to come out so harsh. "It doesn't really matter, I mean it seems pretty obvious what you want now. I-I-I" He stammered, "I-I just didn't want this awkward sense of not knowing hanging around us all the time."

The back of her eyes began pricking but she had become so used to crying this past week she barely even noticed when tears were streaming down her cheeks. She knew what she wanted, no matter how hard she denied it she knew deep down the only thing that could make her happy again. But no, maybe it would just hurt her. He'd done it before he could do it again. She wasn't going to put herself through that once more. But, oh, how perfect he made her feel. Why was this so confusing?!

And then, all at once, everything she'd tried so hard to keep inside her came rushing out. She knew what she had to do. All the emotions she had tried to desperately to decipher dissolved into one, rash decision that she knew she would later regret. She jumped off the couch and into his arms. She mentally smacked herself up and down, but it seemed her heart had sealed to his because she could not force herself to let go.

Her head rested gently against his, her soft hair tickling his chin. Her sobs were muffled by his shoulder. He was in shock for a nanosecond, his arms stuck to his sides, not knowing what to make of this. His body seemed in an angelic paradise, her arms arched around his back, gently stroking him, her chin on his shoulder. He slowly wrapped his arms around her and buried his head in her neck.

He just wanted to keep her there, forever. He didn't want to let go again. But alas, all dreams do end as she began to pull back. Slowly, not moving much, until they were nose to nose. There they were, eye to eye. Staring into each other's souls.

He half expected her to let go and slip from his grasp. He could hear the words "goodbye" leaving her lips. He knew there was only one thing to do to keep her from retreating. He knew it was a bad move, a very bad one. But he also knew it was certain he would never get this chance again. He swooped in and planted his lips firmly on hers.

It was sloppy, and not at all romantic, but it was something. One last teeny drop of happiness.

Although his eyes were closed, he noticed when the power returned and the lights flicked on. They parted and he noticed Monica blush. Chandler grew nervous, waiting for her to do something, to smack him, to scream or cry or kiss him all over again, just something. Then, as if on cue, the phone rang.

They stood back, her arm still touching his. They didn't break eye contact for two more rings. "So," Chandler croaked, "Are you going to get that?" She seemed paralyzed, her face still red. Oh God, he thought, why did I do that. "Monica…"

She then did something she would never quite be able to explain. She opened her mouth and whispered "I have an answering machine for a reason." and watched as an almost devilish smile etched its way across Chandler's face.

As soon as he leaned in for another kiss, the familiar voice mail rang out. The greeting ended and the message began to record. "Hey Monica, this is Richard. I just wanted to call and say I had a great time at lunch today. I also wanted to let you know if we were still on for another date there's this great new seafood place on 24th street I've been dying to try out. Call me back later and we can set a time. Hope to see you soon, bye."

Chandler dropped his head, suddenly the happiness that had finally crept it's way into his body seemed to be sucked out of every corner. "So, I see you moved on pretty fast." He snapped sarcastically as he stood up and marched over to the door.

"Chandler wait!" Monica called after him, chasing him into the hallway.

"What?" Chandler cried, spinning around to face her. "It's fine Monica! I didn't expect much from coming back anyway. Have fun with your boyfriend. I hope he treats you better than I ever did." He whipped around and began marching downstairs, Monica at his heels.

"Chandler, it wasn't a date! I just ran into him."

"Oh, and you just 'happen' to set up plans for dinner?" Chandler spat, as they reached the bottom floor. "It is fine, Monica. Absolutely 100% great. It's my fault for letting you go. Goodbye." And he turned to exit the building, into the street that was still wet with fresh rain.

He didn't know if Monica called after him or not, because his ears will still ringing with the sound of Richard's message. He shuddered. One thing became certain to him as he continued down the sidewalk, his heart heavy and the rain beginning to pick up again; he was never going on his gut instinct again.