How Many Seasons Did Phoebe Buffay-Hannigan Appear In Friends?

Right after I got pregnant by accident, all three of my friends-with-benefits coworkers dumped me. "You're just a girl from an ordinary family. My parents would never accept you. Stop clinging to me." "Babe, my first love is back in the country. I can't keep playing this game with you anymore. It's over." "Take your dirty money and get the hell out of my life!" I didn't tell any of them. I slipped away to Europe and had the baby in secret. But the moment I disappeared, all three of them lost it: [You heartless woman.] [Anna, pulling the vanishing act again? Playing hard to get much?] [Baby, forget about her. I don't want my childhood sweetheart anymore. Just come back, please?]

My boyfriend's "best female friend" was angry again. Why? Because for our five-year anniversary, he got a gift just for me—and forgot about hers. Simone Baker threw a complete fit, sobbing and making a huge scene. Scott Tanner immediately blocked me and removed me on Instagram, then changed our matching couple profile pictures. "Girls can be so dramatic," he said. "Once I've calmed her down, we'll switch them back." I reminded him, "That makes a hundred times now." He just smiled and gave me a quick kiss. "I know. I'll make it fast this time." That night, Simone posted a status update: [Your effort was acceptable. You get three days of freedom.] Almost immediately, Scott unblocked me. [Okay, babe. We can put our couple pictures back now.] But then a male account—using my half of the matching photo—sent him a friend request, followed by a single question mark. [Since when are couple photos a group project?]

What do 26 years of friendship, plus 26 years of pent-up, sexual frustration, and one drunken, exciting, night on the beach get me? I just found out I'm pregnant with my best friend's baby... How the hell am I supposed to tell him that we're having a baby together? How will he react, and will he want this blessing just as much as I do? What's even worse is our parents have started to date each other... What does that mean for Cole and me?

I have dated my girlfriend, Brenda Townsend, for eight years. She finally agrees to marry me. Filled with excitement, I head to the city hall. But to my surprise, I discover that the person waiting for me at the entrance is her best friend, Megan Cunningham. It turns out Brenda is on her way to her childhood sweetheart's house to take care of him. So I go along with it and marry Megan instead. Brenda loses her mind and breaks down. She cries hysterically while telling me that she has her reasons.

Shan had grown up as a college freshman with her best friend, Ciara for over a period of fifteen years. Ciara Jones is smitten with his best friend Shan, but she can't tell because Shan is dating someone else. Being their loyal best friend, she still supports Shan with everything and shows her love for him. Shan will eventually discover the truth about his real father, Phillip Garcia, and within his family, things happen unexpectedly. Will they conquer everything? Will their family would ever be fixed through everything?

When my best friend died, his wife, Mia Lewis, was eight months pregnant. Mia said she didn't want her baby growing up without a father. I owed my best friend my life. He saved me, literally pulled me from death's door. So I stepped up, marrying Mia and raising their son as my own. Mia loved her career, so I quit mine. Traded my job for diapers and school runs. For seven whole years, I cooked, cleaned, folded laundry, and handled the housework. Rain or shine, sickness or health, I was there—every single day. Mia, though? She stayed cold, distant. Her warmth only surfaced in the bedroom—and even then, it was a flicker, never a flame. Just soft sighs and breathy murmurs, like she was playing a role she couldn't wait to finish. Afterward, she would quietly check the condom, as if she couldn't trust me. Then came New Year's Eve. A snap. A tear. A broken condom. Her fury struck like a thunderclap. She locked me out on the balcony, left me standing in the freezing rain, soaked to the bone as the wind howled like a wounded beast. Teeth chattering, I shivered as I watched the door like a dog, waiting to be let in. Then I saw him. Our boy, Ethan Bailey. Six years old. My son, at least in name. He came running with an umbrella in his hand. For a second, my heart leapt. 'Maybe, just maybe…' But he didn't even look at me. Just walked past in silence and handed the umbrella to the nanny heading out. Right then and there, something inside me cracked. I knew it was time to go.