Ghosts (A Christian Yelich Story)

Chapter Sixty-Five: Ice Cold

"Please stop yelling at me," I whispered to Christian while he continued to shout at me in his kitchen.

"I really fucking wanted you to see me play tonight. Where were you?" He turned down his volume a little, but he was still fuming. "You were supposed to meet me at Miller Park at 3:00, and you never showed. What the fuck, Annie?"

"I just needed some time to think."

"We spend most of our time apart. Why can't you think then?"

"I also didn't want to sit in a crowd and have people recognize me. I'm just not feeling very confident lately. I'm sorry I disappointed you."

Christian sighed heavily and stepped in front of me. "It's going to get worse when the People article launches on Monday and everyone knows."

"Maybe it'll be better. I'm sick of hiding our secret from everyone — my fans, your fans, my colleagues, your teammates. I feel sad and tired all the time. It's too much weight." I tried hard not to cry. I was so tired of crying.

Christian placed his hands on my sides and gently kissed my forehead. "I just want to feel supported, I guess," he whispered.

"I told you before we started this that I couldn't be a baseball girlfriend. I can't be at most of your games, and I can't live my life traveling around for you with our baby in tow like a doting, dutiful preacher's wife." I rolled my eyes. "You're being unfair."

"I'm being unfair? How hard is it to go to a fucking baseball game, Annie?"

"Pretty difficult when your entire body hurts and you're sad and you're hungry all the time and you just want to be alone because you're so fat and awful and ugly and irrational," I huffed before pushing his arms away from me and grabbing my keys. "Don't wait up for me."

He looked at me with a mix of sadness and pain and confusion. "It's midnight, Annie. Where exactly are you going? Let's just get some sleep and talk about this in the morning."

"Out." I shrugged and abandoned him in the kitchen.

He didn't follow.

Once I pulled my car out of the garage, I called my brother, Chris. If he was in Milwaukee, he'd still be awake — and probably out on the town.

"Hey, sis!" he answered after a ring.

"Are you out in Milwaukee right now?"

"You know it. I'm at Nomad on Brady. Want to meet up?"

"I'll be there in ten minutes."

When I arrived, my brother was easy to spot at the bar. As soon as he saw me, he ran up to me, picked me up, and spun me around. "Aren't you supposed to be pregnant? You're still so tiny and light."

"Mom told you?"

"Of course she told me. She told all of us. She said you seemed like you needed space, so I figured I'd wait to bother you about it."

"They didn't take it well." I sighed as we both took seats at the bar.

"Of course they didn't. They were too surprised to take it well. You have ranted about not wanting kids since you were like . . . Twelve. Or something. Then you show up at their house impregnated by a famous baseball player who they don't know at all. That's fucking weird, sis. You're generally a very organized, methodical person, so this threw everyone off a little."

"I really needed them." I bit my bottom lip to fight off tears. Again.

"You have them, Annie. This is all just a bit out of charcter for you. We'll adjust. And we'll love that little goblin so much."

I ordered a Coke from the obnoxiously attractive bartender. "DD?" he asked.

"You got it," I lied.

"I really liked Minnetonka," he commented as he filled a glass with soda.

I smiled, a bit embarrassed to be recognized so easily. I was hoping the baseball hat I was wearing would help me not be seen, but I guess I was out of luck. "Thank you."

He smiled back at me as he gave me the Coke before moving on to help another customer. He'd occasionally glance over at me whenever he was making a new drink.

"I wish I could have a drink," I muttered to my brother.

"So you could get drunk enough to go home with that dashing bartender?"

"Something like that," I whispered.

"Are you with Yelich? Are you two together?" my brother asked me.

"Oh, you call him by his last name? Are you two bros?"

"Yeah, he's a baseball player. That's how you address them. Anyway, don't change the subject. Are you with him?"

I nodded my head up and down.

"Then why aren't you with him right now?"

"Because I missed my favorite bro," I said cheekily while playfully punching his arm.

"For someone who is an amazing actress, you're a horrible liar."

"We had an argument."

"About?"

"I missed his game tonight, and he was rightfully upset about it. He yelled a lot, and I'm too stressed to be able to handle confrontation, so here I am."

"He shouldn't yell at you," my brother said sternly. "But you should go to his games when you can go to his games, you know? Me and/or Zach would go with you tomorrow if you just don't want to be alone with baseball wives and girlfriends while they gossip about how much of a slut you are."

"Jesus, Chris. I wasn't even worried about that, but now I am. Fuck."

"Where's Hannah? You're better at life when Hannah is around."

"Oh, please. You just want to sleep with her."

"Again. I want to sleep with her again."

Before I could reply, my phone started to buzz in my purse. It was Christian, so I ignored it, obviously.

"Ice cold," my brother said.

"I just don't want to argue with him more. It doesn't feel good."

"Then go back to him, apologize, and give him a blowjob or something."

"I never want to hear my brother reference me giving a man a blowjob."

"Annie, go. You're only making things worse by being here. I'll go to the game with you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay," I said softly.

He pulled me into a hug and kissed the top of my head.

"Go get him, tiger!" he yelled so the whole bar could hear right before I walked out the door.

"Fuck you, Chris," I shouted, wanting the final word.