AN: BOOM.! BTW this is the future but I'm trying not to put a time frame on it. It's up to your interpretation, it could be weeks - months - years - even decades later. I added a song to the chapter too.

Phoebe's POV:

I spent my first phase after the breakup in a zombie state. I only went to school and work, that's all I could handle. I tried to get rid of that damned scholarship I was given but my school wouldn't let me, something about it being an honor.

My second phase was welcomed because then I was in a constant rage. Everything seemed to set me off, so I took a boxing class to help it. I was lean and mean, and no one could touch me. I felt invincible in this phase and I hardly cared that he was gone.

The third phase hit like a ton of bricks, grief. It's not like he died, but it felt like it. I had to wash my pillow cases a lot because they were seemingly always soaked with my tears. I still kept up my regular routine but I didn't have the same fire.

Rachel, my work best friend turned real best friend, helped me a lot even when she didn't know what happened to me. I eventually told her about Mr. M and she cried with me that night. I don't know if she understood my plight or if her empathy is just astronomical.

Phase Four is still a blur, it was my drunken phase. Rachel, Ross, and I would get drunk on our days off. Nothing and everything was said between us. I complained to them about my leftover scholarship money and they called me a damned fool for wanting to get rid of it.

So, I took the leftover money and put it into a savings account. I refused to touch it though; even when my apartment building flooded, even when my appendix burst, and I sure as hell didn't use it when I bought myself a car.

For the longest of time I viewed it as pity money or a pay off. It took me a while to appreciate the cushion I was given. To appreciate the man I once knew.

I'm still not there but I'm getting better at it.

After phase four fizzled and died, I got back into living- not just getting by. I started out small, just going out to the mall or to the park to then being able to go to parties without looking for my previous dance partner.

Ross and his bartender on/off girlfriend kept up their rocky relationship, so one night I dragged him out with me to just forget for a while. Rachel couldn't make it because she had her kid that weekend.

That night Ross and I laughed like maniacs, danced like robots, and got drunk as all hell. When we got back to Ross' apartment, he offered to make us nachos, since he knew that I got the munchies while drinking.

I ruined the fun night out by slumping forward to ugly cry. Mr. M once offered me nachos when I was drunk.

Ross, obviously confused, weeded out the reason to my crying and held me when the waterworks didn't stop. I complained that it's always like I took two steps forward only to be knocked back by the smallest of things.

When his lips touched mine, later on that night, I didn't stop the kiss.

The next morning, while side by side in his bed, we stated our undying love for the other.

~~~

Weddings are beautiful, magical, splendid, and joyous occasions.

Unless you're one of the unlucky bastards that has to plan one out, then they are a pain in the ass. No one told me that everything has to match or have some significance to the "happy" couple. I never would have said yes to this if I was fore warned.

Ross suggested going to the court house after seeing how stressful the planning was, but his mother had a huge fit about it so he never brought it up again. I tried to talk him into it one night at his apartment but he just kept ignoring me, which led to us having a big fight.

Apparently his mom had only asked "one thing" of him, and that's for the wedding to be at her church.

I say her church because no one else besides her seems to be all that religious. Having Ross out of wedlock never seems to diminish the righteousness she projects out when reminding everyone else that we're sinners. I just grin and bear it, for Ross.

Their pastor hates me, I think he somehow knows about my stint with a devil worshiping cult in high school. It was a rebellious time for me, everyone has one.

I get the stink eye every time he's sees me, and it feels like I have my religious enrollment is etched into my skin. I want to hate the man, but isn't it a sin to hate a pastor? I have yet to look it up in fear that he'll somehow find out.

I just don't have time for him to berate me, because then I'll have to tell him to turn the other cheek and to get the fuck out of my face. In reaction, his congregation will step in which is made up of Ross' hometown community and then I'll have to tell the old bitties to step off their high horses. I'll then probably bring out receipts from my childhood, like the numerous cheating scandals and bad parenting choices that were made by the group. It'd be all out warfare.

It's just easier to do the research after the wedding, by then it'll be too late for them to do anything. 'Grin and bear it', has been my motto for a while now.

Ross' mom has since tried to control the entire wedding after her "one" request, I wasn't having it though. Her one demand is being followed, much to my vexation, so now she can only suggest things that I take every liberty to ignore.

The woman hasn't gotten over large floral prints and big hair dos. If we listened to her, the whole place would look like a Toddlers and Tiaras episode. Nothing would be real, and everyone would walk around like a posh diva about to gain recognition for doing absolutely nothing.

Have I mentioned that planning a wedding sucks? Rachel helped where she could and gave her opinions, but the rest was on me. We should've just hired someone, but nnnnooooo- it had to be personally done.

Our relationship is strained because of it. Ross and I fought again, over his mom, when she eventually came to him crying asking him for only "one more thing" since I ignored her.

He eventually apologized and begged for me to just go with it. She's his mom and since his father was never in the picture, Ross is the only man she could count on in her life. 
So, since I love him, I admitted defeat- sort of.

I gave in allowed his mother plan out all that was specifically for Ross, from his bachelor party to what his groomsmen wear. She hasn't complained, so I'm guessing she's fine with our new arrangement. Ross can suffer his mother's taste and I get more things off my plate.

The guess list, floral arrangements, and catering had taken up so much of my thinking space that I completely forgot about any dress appointment. That is, until my phone reminded me about it, 10 minutes before I was supposed to be there.

I tried on nearly thirty fucking dresses that day before I walked out and went to a tux shop. The man had me fitted, tucked, and measured in under an hour. The suit and alterations cost nearly the same, if not a little less than a dress!

Ross' mom was pissed, his aunts were ready to revolt, and Ross chocked when he saw me. None of them really confronted me about anything because Ross had my back, for once.

"Her wedding, her rules." I'd hear him telling the masses if they brought up my tux.

I think he's just straddling the fence to survive all of this chaos and a part of me can't blame him. Men aren't generally raised looking forward to getting married, and they sure aren't expected to help plan the damn things.
So yeah, half of my being understands.

The other half wants to call the whole thing off. If he isn't going to participate in his own wedding, why have it? And to top it all off, why let him have any say when all he does is pop up at random times demanding shit?

Paying for it doesn't mean really as much when you don't know what you're paying for.

Mr. M wouldn't be like this, I know for a fact that he wouldn't. He'd make sure to show up to everything, even the not so fun stuff like looking for a perfect table centerpiece. I can't imagine him complaining either because he'd understand the importance in everything that's being done. No appointment would be a waste of his time and his opinion would be given freely whenever needed/asked.

Thinking of him makes my chest hurt but it's hard not to when Ross can't seem to rise to the occasion.

~

"If she complains about Rachel's dress one more time-" I threaten under my breath so that he can hear me.

"Mom, why don't we talk about something else." Ross interjects. This "family" dinner is hell, I don't know how we're going to survive the rest of the week together.

"Sure sweetie." Her voice is smooth as as honey; "Phoebe, maybe you can take some time this week to get baptized by Pastor Lewis. It'd be a great relief to know that you won't continue to be a hellion after the wedding.", it has the quality of a bee sting though. An annoying pinch that later swells with inflammation that you're left on your own to fight off.

The entire tables takes in a collective breath, I blink once before smiling.

"If I have my history right, you didn't get baptized until after you had your bastard son Ross. I think I'll keep up my hellion ways until I become an unwed mother like you, then I'll commit my life to Christ." My tone drips false hero worship.

Her entire face turns red, her mouth gaping open and closed like a fish out of water. I put down my eating utensils to face her onslaught once her mind comprehends my words. I'm too ready for us to duke out our verbal assault weapons, my tongue hurts from my constantly biting it.

"Rachel's tired, all the walking today has really tired her out!" Ross screams, throwing down his napkin.

Ross then drags a pregnant Rachel, her sulking daughter, and I out of the restaurant all while smoothing down ruffled feathers with false politeness. 

In the car he starts yelling out meaningless statements, none of which I reply to.

"That was uncalled for Phoebe."

"She was just suggesting your getting baptized." 

"I'm sure that her feelings are hurt."

"I just wanted to have ONE meal with my family."

"You have to apologize to her."

"Like hell I will." I spit out. Rachel's kid is knocked out so I feel no need to censor myself. Rachel herself sits in the front seat silent.

She knows not to involve herself in our fights, neither side would appreciate it.

"You just insulted my mom!" Ross exclaims.

"That bitch started it, and I'm sick and tired of her barbs towards me." I defend.

Calling his mom a bitch was a step too far, Ross brakes the car to the side of the road waking up the sleeping child.

He doesn't say anything as he parks and and turns off the car. Unbuckling our seat belts, Ross and I get out of the car. We walk a few meters away and have at it.

"You have no right-" He starts.

"I have every right! She-"I cut in.

"That's my mom-"

"I don't give a damn-"

"-the woman who raised me-"

"-if she was the pope-"

"all she asked for-"

"she's always been disrespect-"

"I need her!"

"Then why the hell are you getting married!" I finish.

Both of our chests are heaving from yelling. Ross stays silent to let me finish.

"I planned this entire damn wedding, Rachel was with me step by step but where have you been? Your mom has been undermining EVERY decision made, where have you been? Why do any of this if all you need is your mother!?" I screech.

"Phoebe, that's not what I meant and you know it." His tone is heating up again.

"Oh really? You haven't done a damn thing to stop her chaos, so maybe she is the only person you care about."

"We just have to deal with her for a little longer, after the wedding we'll be free." He pleads.

"No! What I'm seeing is that you'll never stop her from trying to control shit. From demeaning anyone she views as below her, she doesn't even speak to Rachel. That doesn't make for a long standing marriage Ross. We've been best friends for years and you don't stop her from coming at me. Getting married won't give you a sudden power to man up." I'm pissed.

Ross' face hardens since I've challenged his manhood. I just want to punch the fucker. This triggers him but his mom's shit doesn't.

"Fine." I spit out while pushing past him to the car.

Rachel looks like she wants to say something but she keeps her mouth shut at the look on my face. The kid's asleep again which is good, she's had a long day.

I dig around under the seat for my sneakers and yank off my heels to put them on.

"Phoebe what are you doing?" Ross demands to know.

It takes everything in me not to swing around and two piece/double tap this fool.

"I'm going for a walk." I grit out and begin to walk away.

"Phoebe!" He calls out.

"WHAT!?" I bellow, entirely done.

"Are you coming to the rehearsal?"

What he's really asking is, am I still willing to stand beside him in front of a pastor to solidify the union.

I answer him as honestly as I can, "I don't know."

Without another word, I walk along the road to find a motel for the night.

AN: I'm still unsure about this chapter y'all but I just can't scrap it. By the way, this is unedited, so yeah..... hope it makes sense. The rest of your questions will be answered in the final chapter.