Chandler Bing X Reader Oneshots

●Letting go

"Selfhood begins with a walking away, and love is proved in the letting go." ~ Cecil Day-Lewis

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I get on my third subway of my journey from the airport to my hotel in the West Village. This is my first time in New York in three years; my siblings, Ross and Monica, live here and want me to come visit them and our friends. I've been away for a few years on business... well, that's the reason I gave to most people when I moved to London. There are only a handful of people who know the real reason why I left: Rachel and Monica, because we were so close in high school and we told each other everything; Ross, my twin, because we agreed when we were kids to never keep secrets from each other; and of course, Chandler, my ex-boyfriend from college, as he is the sole reason I left.

It's the thought of seeing Chandler again which puts me off visiting everyone else. I shouldn't have left him, but I was young, and stupid, and terrified of commitment. The moment I realised things were starting to get serious I ran, because I saw what happened with Ross and Carol, and with Chandler's parents, and I wasn't prepared to get my heart broken that way. After three weeks of holding my twin brother as he cried into my shoulder, I couldn't stand the magnitude of the fear that this could have been me too. So I ran without a word of goodbye, except for the six handwritten notes I left for my friends, explaining the version of the truth each one of them needed to hear.

As I get on the train, it suddenly starts moving again. A combination of my heavy backpack and the train's movement knocks me off my feet, sending me flying into a stranger standing a few feet away, and the two of us tumble onto the floor. It's then that I realise he's not a stranger at all; in fact he is the one person I've been hoping to avoid on this trip. His blue eyes search mine in bewilderment.

"[Y/N]..." he mumbles, his face reddening when he realises I'm lying on top of him. I get off him, we stand up and I move away to the other end of the carriage. He grabs my arm, forcing me to face him. "[Y/N], is it really you?" I can see it in his eyes: three years of pain and heartbreak and unanswered questions. Three years of wondering what the hell it was he did wrong. Three years of trying to move on, but realising each new relationship lacks everything we once had, everything I threw away. And it's seeing this which means I purse my lips and get off the train at the next stop, leaving him standing alone in the empty subway train as the doors close and he is carried away with it, leaving me in the station.

I forge a new smile onto my face as I enter the coffee house I've missed so much.

"Ross!" I couldn't be more glad to see my brother again. He embraces me happily, and I see over his shoulder my sister and my three best friends. "Mon! Rach!" The three of us group hug, and suddenly I feel at home again. Phoebe and Joey join in on the hug, Ross finally settling on the outside, squashing me in the centre. I feel a sense of home that I haven't felt since I left, but this comes with a twinge of guilt when I remember who else I used to spend these happy moments with. I force myself not to cry, because it's not worth crying over anymore. I ruined it, that was my decision, and now I've got to live with the consequences.

A voice floats in through the open door, and I'm glad I'm hidden in the middle of the hug as I recognise instantly who it is.

"Hey, can't I get in on this-" our eyes meet as our friends untangle themselves from around me and I look at the floor, suddenly finding my shoelaces much more interesting than the look on Chandler's face.

"I'd better be going." I mutter, grabbing my coat and heading to my hotel across the street. I feel his hand grab my arm again and I'm forced to look at him.

"Would you stop doing that?" I jerk my arm away from him. "I think I've made my intentions clear."
He frowns.

"I don't think you have. Come on, I want to talk about this. I want to know why you can't even look at me anymore. Don't you still love me?"
I sigh, biting my lip to stop the tears escaping.

"I did, once."

Somehow, half an hour later I'm in Chandler's apartment, awkwardly sipping coffee and avoiding his searching gaze from across the kitchen counter.

"Was it because I tell too many jokes? Was it because I spend so much time with Joey and Ross? Was there someone else?" I answer with a simple shake of my head. "Then why did you leave me without even saying goodbye?" His voice rises in anger. "All you left was a letter. Some stupid damn letter and I'm supposed to understand why you broke my heart 'because we have different interests'? Didn't you care about me? Didn't you care at all?"

"Of course I cared." I speak quietly, staring into my mug of lukewarm coffee. My voice trembles as I say it aloud for the first time.

"Listen... I was twenty-five. I was naïve. I saw what happened with your parents. I saw what happened with Ross and Carol. The night I left, I'd spent three hours sitting on Ross' kitchen floor as we wept together for different reasons. He thought I was crying for him, but I wasn't. I was crying because it had just hit me how terrified I was that you and I could've ended up the same way Ross and Carol did. I ran because it was all I knew to do. I didn't think, I just did, and when I realised what I'd thrown away it was too late."

A hand reaches out across the counter and takes mine, causing me to look up from my mug. Realising my face is now wet with tears, I wipe them away with my sleeve, cursing myself. I'd promised myself I wouldn't cry, because Chandler isn't worth crying about. I suppose he is, after all.

It's only a matter of time before the tears are streaking down my face, more than all those years ago on Ross' kitchen floor, more than on the plane away from New York, more than when I arrived in my empty London flat, feeling more alone than I ever had. Before long, the cold coffee is forgotten on the counter and I'm on the couch in Chandler's arms, and this time I'm crying for three years of bottled-up pain without the one person I didn't realise I needed so much until I'd let him go.

"I thought I was doing the right thing when I left," I mumble. "I thought love was proved in the letting go."
His reply is simple, but it tells me all I need to know:

"How is it, when I could never let you go?" He stands up, disappearing into his room before emerging, holding my letter. "Would you take this back?" He smiles, holding out the engagement ring he'd given to me a month before I left. I stand up to face him, shocked he has kept the ring all this time. I'd returned it to him in the envelope my letter came in, sure he'd sell it, or else give it to some other girl.

And suddenly, after three years of feeling so empty, so cold, so dark, I come back to reality. I see the man I fell in love with eight years ago, and it's like I'm falling for him all over again. I whisper the three words I hadn't uttered since I left, stumbling back into his arms after he puts the ring back on my finger. He repeats them back to me, his arms curling tighter around me, bringing me closer to himself, and for the first time in three years I'm home.