Ghosts (A Christian Yelich Story)

Chapter Forty-Nine: Pathetic

Sensitive subject matter below.

***

By the time Hannah and I returned to my home in Malibu, it was already 7:30 pm, and I had to be back on set for 3:00 am hair and makeup.

"I could try to negotiate a later start time for you," Hannah said softly as she started to scavenge for food in my kitchen. "You need some rest."

"Hannah, you're not my personal chef. You don't have to cook for me." I put a hand on her arm to get her to stop, but she pulled away.

"I do. You're pregnant, and we need to start taking better care of you and that baby."

"Hannah, you already know I can't go through with this." This was the first time I was making this confession out loud. I nervously fidgeted with my hands. I fleetingly thought about touching my stomach, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I didn't want a connection.

Hannah looked at me with more sympathy than I've ever seen on her face. "I knew that's what you were thinking, but I also don't think you'll be able to go through with the big A. You'll want to. You'll try. You'll get to the appointment. Then you'll run from it. I know you, Annie. Better than anyone. You are the most guilt-ridden person I've ever met. Catholic school did you dirty."

"You also know I never want kids," I whispered. "I've just never felt very maternal, you know?"

"I do know that. And, if I were in your shoes, I'd be considering the same steps. Do you want me to make you an appointment at the celebrity clinic? Is that what you want right now?"

"The celebrity clinic?" I questioned her. I had no idea what she was talking about.

"It's a woman's clinic in Pasadena that famous women go to for their abortions. It doesn't offer services to the public, so there are never protesters or anything. It'd be the only place to go," Hannah explained.

I nodded. "Please, make me an appointment."

Hannah returned the nod to seal our agreement.

"Are you going to tell Christian?" she asked me a few moments later. I hadn't heard anyone say that name in weeks, and hearing it stung.

"No, I can't." I wanted to leave it at that, but I knew Hannah was going to press for more.

"It might help you feel better about the situation if you knew he agreed with you. And I'm only saying this because I know how your conscience works. But I don't think you owe it to him to tell him, either. It's one hundred percent your decision at this point."

Her assessment wasn't wrong, but I still wasn't going to tell him. "I don't think he'd want to know," I said softly. "I think it'd hurt him. I don't want to do that."

"Are you sure?" Hannah asked me – her face sad.

"I'm not," I whispered. And I wasn't. I didn't know him well enough to know how he'd react. "But I don't know what else to do, and not telling him keeps the damage to just me."

***

"What are your plans for the night, Yeli?" Travis Shaw asked me as we were leaving Surprise Stadium, the Rangers' Spring Training facility, after our game.

"I was thinking about grabbing a bite to eat and then watching the Academy Awards." I shrugged.

"Still hung up on her, huh?"

"Yeah, man. I keep trying to shake her off, but the feelings never completely subside. I haven't had sex in almost two months, and the last time was with her on New Year's Eve. She pops into my mind whenever I'm trying to forget her with someone else, y'know?"

Shaw nodded. "I think to get over her you're going to have to find someone else you want to be in a relationship with. Annie is the first woman in a very long time you didn't just want for sex, so a hookup isn't going to make her disappear. Maybe try an actual date with someone."

I shrugged. "Maybe."

"Do you want me to watch the awards with you, so you don't go off the deep end?"

I laughed. "I'll be okay."

"All right. Text if you need me."

Shaw and I went our separate ways. I stopped to grab some dinner and settled into my apartment to watch the pre-show. I felt ashamed of myself for eating Chipotle half-naked in bed while pining over a reality television fling, but I had to see her again.

About thirty minutes in, she stood with an interviewer in a striking sunflower yellow gown that hugged her curves in all the right places and made her complexion look even more flawless than it usually did. Her bright red lips contrasted with her soft, fair skin, and my mind immediately went in the gutter as I thought about how her lips would look and feel enveloping my hard cock – just as they had three months ago.

I pulled myself out of my boxers and gripped my dick as I watched Annie coolly answer an interview question about what she was wearing. I wasn't focused on the answer, as my thoughts drifted back to our night in that Irish cottage and all the passion she showed to me then.

I shut my eyes tightly as I imagined what it would be like to tear that yellow dress from her body and dive into her. My hand moved up and down, up and down until I was close to the edge. I grabbed the t-shirt I had discarded earlier and finished into it before letting out a loud groan of frustration.

I wasn't ever going to get over her, was I? It had been almost two months since she rejected me, and brushed off my confession entirely, and here I was spending another night alone.

After she won her award category later that evening, I grabbed my phone and wrote her another message. What did it matter if I came off as pathetic at this point? She was all I wanted, and the damage was already done.

Christian: You are so fucking beautiful. Thanks for the best two weeks of my life.

Sent. Pathetic.