Ghosts (A Christian Yelich Story)

Chapter One Hundred Seventeen: Anniversary

I was exhausted after a 14-hour day on set and was ready to kiss my daughter and husband goodnight and then collapse into bed.

When I entered our rented beach house, Andrew was busy cleaning up the kitchen. "Did you cook for him again?" I asked with a raised brow and a smirk on my face.

Andrew chuckled as he washed up some dishes by hand. "I can't help it. He tries so hard in the kitchen, but it's too difficult to watch. I feel like I have to protect him."

I laughed. "What did you make him tonight?"

"Just a Mexican stir fry," he replied.

"You know you don't have to cook for us right?" I asked sincerely. "You're going above and beyond your job description. I appreciate it, but I don't want you to feel obligated. You're supposed to have evenings off right now. You should enjoy Sydney."

Andrew shrugged. "I really don't mind. I like being here with you guys. There are leftovers in the fridge if you're hungry."

"Well, thank you, as always. Is Christian in our room?"

"Yeah, he's feeding Lo."

"Perfect. I'm going to head to bed; I have a 5:00 am set call. Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

I made my way to our bedroom. Christian was settled into the chair tucked away in the corner with Eloise situated in his strong, lanky arms. He was telling her a story, which he liked to do during and after her bottle time.

"Hi," I said softly, not wanting to drastically disturb daddy-daughter time.

"Hello," he responded, his tone a bit off-putting and distant.

I bit my lip, unsure of what the problem was. "Is everything okay? Did you have a good day?"

He sighed while looking at Lo and avoiding eye contact with me. "You said you'd be home early . . . It's our one-year anniversary. I wanted to take you to dinner . . . and then make you cum."

He sounded more sad than mad, and it hurt my heart a little bit. "I'm so sorry, Christian. We had to do over one hundred takes of the same scene, and I still don't think the director is satisfied. It was rough."

"Was it the scene where you fuck another dude?" Now he sounded mad. "Harry Potter or whatever."

"Christian, it's acting. At no point does a penis actually enter me; in fact, I never even have to see his penis. Please don't make me feel guilty for doing my job. It's all mechanical and detached."

"Why can't a body double do the scenes?" He still wouldn't look at me.

We were both silent for a moment, and I could only hear the ocean waves crashing outside our bedroom window.

"Where is this coming from?" My voice was cracking as I fought tears. I was losing the battle.

"At least my career doesn't include convenient excuses to bang other women," he scoffed.

"You're being really unfair," I said coolly. "Can I get Lo to bed?" I was ready to put this topic to rest. I knew the sex scenes weren't what was really bothering him, but I also knew open and honest communication wasn't on the menu tonight.

"Yeah, sure, it's about time you put some effort into being a fucking mom for once," he said dryly.

At this point, I threw my hands up in the air. I took Lo from him and made my way to the nursery to prepare her for sleep. I looked forward to this every night, but usually we did it together.

I couldn't make him happy. I was always doing something wrong. Making him anxious. Making him cry. Making him shout. We would be good for a while, and then everything would shut down like this and fall apart.

I knew I was a good mom, and he was just trying to make me upset, but it still destroyed me to hear him say something so hurtful.

As I was changing Lo's diaper, Christian stepped into the room. "I'm taking Lo home to Malibu tomorrow night. I booked a ticket for Andrew too."

He left the room before I could respond, and the tears I held back turned into uncontrollable sobbing.