Ghosts (A Christian Yelich Story)

Chapter One Hundred One: The Worst

How did this story get past fifty chapters?

Three chapters in one day. That's how.

***

I held Annie's hand as we both anxiously waited for Dr. Wagner to give us an update. Annie was having contractions now, which apparently meant she was officially in labor. At first, the staff had talked about trying to prevent labor, but apparently that wasn't going to work out. Annie was disheartened.

She was at 35 weeks and 4 days, and Dr. Wagner had assured us that late preterm birth generally wasn't a huge problem in modern medicine. She let us know that she was going to take every precaution to ensure a safe delivery for both Annie and Eloise, and that meant a scheduled C-section once Annie's contractions were closer together. "Since this is your first baby, it's probably going to be awhile yet. I'm thinking afternoon, but you never know," she informed Annie once we got settled into her hospital room. "With your blood issues, I just don't want to risk you bleeding out. This is the safest bet."

"Okay," Annie had cautiously agreed. "I trust whatever you think is safest."

When the doctor left, Annie explained to me that she really wanted to have a natural birth. I just squeezed her hand and let her know everything was going to work out fine.

"Who did you get ahold of?" Annie asked me. I had made a few phone calls before the doctor dropped into the room.

"My mom, Hannah, and Andrew are all on their way together. I'm actually chartering a private flight for them," I informed her.

"You really are an MVP, huh?" she teased.

I smiled at her. "Anything for you."

She nervously fiddled with her hair. "I'm ready to hold her now," she said softly.

"Me too. She's going to be so tiny . . ."

"I hope she gets your hair," Annie said. "Your hair is a gift, and it will make life better for her."

I laughed. "Well, I hope she gets your eyes and smile. Actually, no, I take that back. That might cause problems later on. I hope she gets my weird ass mouth."

Annie rolled her eyes. "Oh, God, you're going to be that dad, huh?"

"Hell yes I am. She can date when she's eighteen and out of the house, so I don't have to know anything about it and can live in sweet, willful ignorance. That's the plan. Men are the worst. I mean, look how bad I fucked up."

"Well, I'm going to let her date when she's fifteen, and we just won't tell you about it. That way she can learn that men are the worst more quickly."

"I think you're just manipulating the situation to be the favorite parent."

"Yes, yes I am," she agreed right before she experienced another contraction. I could tell because she shut her eyes and squeezed my hand tightly. It took close to a minute for her to recover from it.

"How far apart are they now?" I asked after she loosened her grip.

"About seven minutes."

"You're handling them really well." She was. She just tried to breathe her way through them without making a sound.

"Thanks," she breathed out.

"Annie?"

"Yeah?"

"Can we continue our conversation from before?" I asked nervously.

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," she whispered.

"You kissed me back," I said plainly.

"I did," she confirmed.

"Did that mean something, or did you just not know what else to do with your mouth?"

"I think you know it meant something." She sighed.

"I'll be good for you. A good boyfriend . . . a good dad . . . a good husband one day. You two will always be first, even if I mess up sometimes in the actual application of loving you. I'm going to mess up sometimes – one hundred percent for sure. But I'll do better."

"I don't want to be the reason you're unhappy. That's what scares me the most. I can deal with you messing up. I can't deal with being the reason you mess up, you know?"

"You have not once been the reason I'm unhappy. You were just a convenient scapegoat. The idea of losing you, however, makes me miserable." I rubbed my hand up and down her arm. "I've been living there recently."

"Speaking of living, I bought us a house."

"Wait . . . What? You bought us a house here after you broke up with me?"

"I like contingency plans. I also know I'm a sucker for your stupid, dumb face and weird torso-to-leg ratio."

I grinned at her. "So that means . . ."

"I'm taking you back, even though I still think you're the worst."