Sam Wilkinson Imagines

Arguments

"Sam! Do NOT follow me out to the kitchen." You stopped in your tracks to yell at Samuel, again.

"Look (y/n), I didn't mean to say it like that." Sam tried to take it back.

"No! You can't take it back that you said you don't want us to raise our child. Fuck off." You turned around and walked to the kitchen.

You hovered over the island counter and sighed. You placed your hand on your eight month belly and ran your hand up and down it. As big as it was getting, you were surprised Sam even stayed with you for this long.

Hell, you were surprised that he stayed with you, the freshman in college, while he was a junior in college.

"Hey, I was just saying that I feel like we're too young to be parents. I'm pretty sure if we put him up for adoption, someone will want him right away. I know this is last minute, but I think it's a good idea." Sam stood behind you.

You turned around with a look of disgust on your face. You couldn't believe that he was getting cold feet after eight months. Eight long months of carrying your guys' baby boy, Sam wanted to give Bentley up for adoption.

"I have been carrying Bentley for almost nine months, Sam! You want me to give him up just because you're getting cold feet? You know what, I'll take care of him on my own. Moving in with you was the wrong thing to do." You moved away from the island counter and went to the room you shared with Sam.

"I'll be out of your life in twenty minutes. I don't want a call or a text. Don't show up to Sandra's apartment. Bentley and I will be perfectly fine without you." You put a fake smile on your face as you grabbed a suitcase and put it on the bed. The bed in which Bentley was conceived.

The last thing you wanted to do was cry in front of Sam. You don't want him to know that you're weak. You don't want him to know that you don't want to leave.

You started to pack your things. Tearing them from the closet hangers and stuffing them into your suitcase. Tears were now going down your cheeks.

"STOP!" Sam yelled at you and tugged at the roots of his messy, unwashed hair.

You didn't listen, you just kept packing and packing, and packing.

"(Y/N), FUCKING STOP!" Sam grabbed you by your arms and held on to you.

"LET ME LEAVE! LET US LEAVE!" You yelled back at Sam, but didn't look into his eyes.

His eyes were your favorite thing about him. The way they sparkled when he was happy, how glossy they would get when he was sad, and how dry they would get when he was angry.

"God damn it. I want you. I want you both, don't leave." Sam cried.

He released his grip on your arms and wrapped his arms around you. Sam started to cry onto your shoulder. He rubbed his hand up and down your back to calm you down.

"I'm sorry." He whispered into your ear.

"Sam." You backed away from him and looked at the floor.

"I told you-"

"SAM, SHUT THE FUCK UP! THE BABY IS COMING! MY WATER JUST BROKE!" You screamed.

"Holy shit. Um, let's go to the hospital." Sam grabbed your hand and took you out of the house to his car.

He got you in and buckled you up.

"Wow. I'm going to be a dad." Sam took your hand in his and held it.

"You didn't even want him ten minutes ago, shut up." You rolled your eyes and felt a sharp pain.

You breathed in and out to calm yourself.

"(Y/n), I didn't mean any of that. I've just been stressed and I thought with Bentley, it'd be worse. I'm sorry." Sam shook his head and turned on the road to the hospital.

You nodded, "I really wasn't going to leave." You exhaled aloud and inhaled again.

"I know. I love you. And Bentley, of course." Sam smiled at you and your pregnant stomach.

"We love you too, Sammy." You said to Sam as you guys pulled into the hospital parking lot to face the biggest moment of your lives together.