Ghosts (A Christian Yelich Story)

Chapter Ninety-One: Milwaukee

Me: My story has 90 chapters now.

Significant Other: You know that's insane, right?

***

I didn't want to walk away from him. I don't really know why I did. The truth was, I sort of understood where he was coming from. I didn't necessarily think he was right to be mad at me, but I grasped the reasoning behind his emotions; he wanted us to have some alone time without interference . . . I just wish he didn't always go off the deep end when trying to communicate his feelings with me. He would just completely detonate, and I felt like the explosions were solely reserved for me. He was so mellow with everyone else. His family, my family, his fans, his teammates, his coaches, the media . . .

I knew I didn't handle the situation perfectly either. I shouldn't have called him an "immature, controlling asshole" for starters. That probably didn't help the situation.

I didn't go anywhere once I stepped into the hallway. I just should stood outside the door for a few minutes, did some breathing exercises, and then re-entered the room.

Christian looked surprised when I came back. "I thought you left," he said softly before standing up. He grabbed me by the waist and pulled me into a tight hug. I followed his lead and wrapped my arms around him.

"I'm sorry," we both said in unison, which caused us both to chuckle a little.

"What are you sorry for? You didn't do anything?" Christian asked while stepping back from me and taking a seat on the edge of the bed. He grabbed my hand and urged me to follow suit.

"Not considering where you're coming from. I also should have texted you to let you know I ran into James. I didn't think about it being a little weird for you, and I should have. He is just my friend, though. I hope you trust me on that."

"I do. You have never given me a real reason not to trust you. Have you ever even lied to me?"

I thought for a moment. "I don't think so. I mean, I withheld information from you for a while, which is a form of lying, I guess. I should have told you about Eloise the day I found out I was pregnant. It would have prevented a lot of drama, and we would have had more time to work on our relationship. We need to work on it. We suck."

"I love you. And I really am sorry. James can come to any of my games with you to keep you company."

"Well, I actually made a friend today, so I don't need James," I teased.

"You what!? My baby made a friend!? Who?" he exclaimed, sounding like a dad who just picked up his kid from the first day of kindergarten.

"Erin Suter," I replied, as I playfully nudged my shoulder against him.

Christian laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"It's just I always figured if you made a Brewers wag bff, it would be Erin Suter. She's pretty similar to you – just, you know, not famous. She's really passionate about education and super smart. And I'm very grateful for her because her existence means you won't leave me for Brent, aka Mr. Harvard," he joked.

"I don't plan on leaving you for anyone," I said sincerely.

"Not even Daniel Radcliffe?" he asked with a smirk.

"Definitely not Daniel Radcliffe, but speaking of Daniel Radcliffe and not withholding information from you . . ." I started.

"You slept with him?" Christian asked – his tone only half joking.

"I don't actually want to bang Daniel Radcliffe, Christian. My love for him is platonic, I promise. But, seriously, I'm doing a project with him in Sydney, Australia during your off season. Do you think you could come with me, so you, Eloise, and I can all be together? Please?"

I thought he was going to go ballistic, and I was really surprised when he didn't – not even close. "Yeah, of course. That sounds amazing. Did you think I wouldn't want to come or something? You sounded like you thought I'd be mad."

"I just figured you'd have your own obligations. Off-season training and stuff. I also thought you might think I was being selfish."

"I can find a gym anywhere, and I'm sure Sydney has a ton of awesome options. I'd love to spend time as a family abroad. I mean, we met in England, so it makes sense we'd spend our one-year anniversary in another country, right? Plus, you need to do your thing too. I know that."

I was actually taken aback at how happy and romantic he sounded. I threw my arms around his neck in excitement. "I love you."

"Are you actually going to live in Milwaukee with me for the rest of the season?" he asked, his tone hopeful. "Or was that your first lie?"

"I need to live in Milwaukee with you. I don't think we'll make it if I don't." We wouldn't. We required time in each other's company. Even just two days spent together in a row was making us a little better at communicating our problems. "I don't think I can do road trips, though. Just the little bit of travel between Los Angeles and San Francisco has been really rough on me. I'm puffed up like a marshmallow. I'm sorry."

"I'm on your side. Road trips are out. You need to relax. Maybe you could find us a house in Milwaukee for next year when you have a little downtime while I'm away. Get us out of the apartment. Your dogs are going to want a backyard, right?"

"You remembered Marco and Polo!" I exclaimed.

Despite how messy our relationship could be and how quickly everything happened, I really did love him. I knew we'd have to constantly work to stay together, but putting the effort in seemed worth it.

Milwaukee seemed worth it.