Ghosts (A Christian Yelich Story)

Chapter One Hundred Twenty One: Happily Ever After

IT'S THE LAST CHAPTER! Can you believe it?

I'm writing a sequel, though, so it's really not the last chapter in the grand scheme of things. It's going to be called Demons, so you're obviously in for a treat.

I don't know when I'll start it. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe in a few weeks. Maybe when Spring Training begins.

In the interim, enjoy my other stories, and thank you for reading!

***

"I'm so glad we survived that," I muttered to Christian as we stood on our deck overlooking the Pacific the morning after our wedding reception. I wrapped my arms around his neck and stood on my toes to give him a kiss.

It was New Year's Day, and this was the first morning in months, actually maybe ever, that we were completely alone together. No Lo. No Hannah. No Andrew. No family. No ghosts. No problems. 

Our honeymoon was just quiet time together at our house – something we had never had before. It was the best gift our families could have given us.

"Why do I feel hungover when I didn't have a single drink yesterday night?" Christian asked while grabbing the front of my robe with both of his hands to pull me tightly against him.

"I know . . . My head is pounding." He kissed my forehead when I mentioned my ailment, and I smiled at his sweetness.

"You know, I still haven't given you your Christmas gift," he informed me.

"We said no gifts, jerk! I seriously don't need anything. I have absolutely everything."

"Oh, you definitely don't have this," he said with a smirk.

He grabbed me by the hand and led me into the house. We settled onto the couch, and I looked at him with a raised brow. "Please tell me you didn't secretly filming us having sex, and now you're forcing me to watch it."

"Better!" He laughed and flipped on the television before starting up an episode of something.

I quickly realized it was the television series we filmed together, which was set to debut in the next couple of weeks in alignment with The Bachelor. "Oh fuck me," I muttered.

"After this, I promise, baby."

I rolled my eyes and grinned at his corny joke. "How did you get this early?" I asked him. "And did you watch it?"

"Hannah, obviously. And yes."

"And how was our edit?"

"Just watch," he said, pointing at the television.

"You know how I feel about watching myself on the screen," I whined. "It's even worse when it's actually you and not a character. A lot worse."

Christian held my hand as the first episode started, and I tried to relax into the sofa.

We spent the whole day after our wedding reception watching our cheesy love story unfold on the TV, and I was shocked at the positive storyline the network created for us. They had so much material to use to make us seem like dramatic, horny teenagers: Asher, Kaylie, sex, sex, and more sex, arguments, fights, crying, gossiping . . . But ABC chose the fairytale edit.

It was a huge relief . . . For both of us.

"Man, I was really rooting for Christian and Annie," I joked after the last episode. "I hope that shit works out for them." I rested my head on Christian's shoulder and sighed dreamily for dramatic effect.

Christian chuckled. "I bet they did a good job escaping the ghosts."

"I know as a fact they did," I replied with a smile.

"And they lived happily ever after," Christian added.

I sure hope they do. 

"Let's go upstairs," I instructed him with a wink to suffocate my internal monologue.

We were married. And in love. And happy. And today that's all that mattered.