Ghosts (A Christian Yelich Story)

Chapter One Hundred Eighteen: Fucking Asshole

I didn't sleep much, and, when I did finally fall asleep, it was restless and broken.

I woke up to the sound of Eloise crying through the baby monitor, a noise that always caused me to jump out of bed immediately. It took me a few extra seconds longer than normal to get to her this morning.

"You need any help?" I heard Andrew ask from the door of the nursery.

"Naw, man, I got it." I cradled Lo in my arms to calm her down. Her crying subsided almost immediately. Even when everything else was a total disaster, she could still make me smile.

Before Andrew could leave, I called him back. "Wait a minute. What time did Annie leave this morning?"

"She left at 4:00. She wanted to get some time in with the trainer on set."

I nodded. "How did she look?" I knew he would know what I meant.

"Sad. Tired. Defeated," Andrew said plainly. "She cried most of the night."

"I really fucked up, huh?" My stomach hurt thinking about how I treated her.

"Just a bit," he replied. "Are we actually going back to Malibu? Because it's a really fucking bad idea."

I sighed. "I didn't book tickets. I just said that because I'm a fucking asshole."

"What are you going to do about this?"

"I don't know," I whispered.

"I'll go prepare a bottle," Andrew said. Before he left, he finished with, "For the record, she's an amazing mom. When she hired me, I thought I'd be doing the parenting even when you two aren't working. Celebrity parents and all that. You guys proved me really wrong. Cut her a break for a long day. She loves you."

I just nodded. He was right. I needed to not blame Annie for my own insecurities.

I was such a fucking mess.

***

I decided to visit Annie on set after my workout. I had a feeling she wasn't going to want to see me.

When I arrived, it was conveniently lunch, and Annie was eating a salad while sitting with Daniel Radcliffe and his girlfriend. She spent most days on set with him. Maybe I needed to start doing the same. Maybe I wasn't being supportive enough.

I walked toward her, and, when she noticed me, she excused herself from the table and met me halfway. "Hi," she said softly. "Want to take a walk?" she asked, and the offer was more than I deserved.

"Are you done eating?" I asked softly. I was worried she wasn't eating enough post-baby. I rarely saw her eat at home, but maybe she really did eat most of her food here. That's what she always told me.

"I'll have a big dinner when my husband takes me out later," she said softly.

I felt my lips turn up into a small smile. "You will," I whispered.

"We can walk to the beach from here," she informed me before locking her hand with mine.

I knew I needed to apologize, but I didn't know where to start. "Annie . . ."

She cut me off. "Please don't make me feel that way again. That was extremely emotionally manipulative. I know I'm a great mom, and I think I'm a pretty good wife too."

"The best and the best," I confirmed. "I'm so sorry."

"I'm going to have to work late sometimes. You work late all the time. What's with the double standard? What's going on?" We were outside now, and she stopped us in our tracks and turned to face me.

"Honestly? I feel not good enough for you."

"That's insane," she replied while squeezing my hands. "You're more than good enough."

"I didn't really realize how famous you are until we moved here. Everyone recognizes you. Constantly. I'm 'Annie Delaney's husband.' That's my identity."

She sighed. "What's so bad about that? Can't you see it as a nice break from our reality in the US? Where we're both recognized?"

"I just feel like people look at me like I don't deserve you."

Annie couldn't stop herself from laughing at this point. "Who fucking cares? You're my husband and the father of my child. You make me happy. I think you're super sexy and kind and funny. Shouldn't that be enough?"

I shrugged. What did I even say?

She locked eyes with me and smiled. "I love you. Now stop being such a dick."