Luke Evans Imagines

IMAGINE: Being scared to tell Owen you're pregnant

You quietly walk into your living room. You look at Owen, your husband, who's on his computer. He doesn't look up when you enter the room. You clear your throat and try to calm the nervous butterflies in your stomach. You just found out you're pregnant. You'd be jumping for joy, except that Owen and you didn't plan to have kids for a few more years. You're worried how he's going to take the news.

"Uh, Owen?" You ask.

He looks up at you and smiles. "Hey, Y/N." He says.

You sit on the ottoman in front of him and clasp your hands together. "I need-I need to tell you something." You state, your voice shaking.

Owen's eyebrows draw worriedly and he sets his computer aside. "Is everything okay?" He asks worriedly.

"Um..." You trail off.

He grabs your clammy hands in his. "Y/N, what is it?" He asks, staring at you.

You take a few deep breaths. "This morning I found...I found out I'm pregnant." You choke out.

Owen stiffens and he sits up straight. "You're pregnant...?" He whispers.

"I know-I know this wasn't part of our plan, Owen." You sob. "I know that this child will change everything for us. We may have not been ready for a little one; but I believe that this will be for the best—that this baby will be the best thing that's ever happened to us." You weep, looking at Owen through your tear filled eyes. He looks down, blinking. He's silent. "Please say something, Owen." You beg.

He slowly looks up at you. He takes your hands again. "I believe that too." He whispers. Your breathe leaves you in a rush. He squeezes your hands. "I won't lie to you, Y/N. I'm scared. I don't know if I will be the right father our baby deserves, but I promise you, I will try to be the best father I can be."

"And that's all we can ever promise, Owen. We can only promise to be the best parents we can be to our child."

Owen smiles. "As long as you're by my side, I believe we can do this. We can raise this child up to be the best person he or she can be."

You smile back at him. "I love you so much, Owen. I hope you know that." You say.

He cups your face. "I do, Y/N." He whispers, before kissing you soundly.

~PART TWO~

     You hear your three year old son, Asher, giggling hysterically as Owen, your husband, tickles him. You look towards the living room and see Owen holding Asher upside down. "Be careful." You call, grinning, as Owen's laughter mingles in with his son's. You chuckle and go back to making dinner for your small family.

     Owen sits on the recliner with Asher in his lap. Asher grabs his father's face in his chubby little hands. "I love you, daddy. You're the bestest person ever." He says. You smile and glance over at them. Your smile drops when you see tears flooding Owen's eyes. He looks so sad.

     "I love you too, son. I love you too." He chokes out, smiling sadly. He picks Asher up and sets him on his feet. "You go play now until dinner is ready." He says. Asher runs off to go play. Owen looks at you and your eyebrows furrow.

     "What is it?" You mouth. Your husband walks over to you, grabs your arm, and pulls you into another room.

     "Owen, what is it? What's wrong?" You ask, putting a hand on his arm. The first two tears slide out of his eyes and he quickly wipes them away. You gaze up at him worriedly.

     "He's so innocent—Asher. He holds me in such high esteem yet he doesn't know what I do to people—what I've done." He whispers, his voice cracking.

     You frown. "Owen." You sigh deeply.

     "In Asher's eyes, Y/N, I'd be a monster. A murderer. A criminal. He loves me so much right now but when he finds out what I do...he will hate me."

     "He's three years old, Owen. He has some time before he starts asking what you do for a living. He doesn't have to know that you're a mercenary. Not yet. You don't have to feel obligated to tell him that. He won't understand. He may never understand."

     "But what do I do? I'm not the hero Asher thinks me to be. I'm not a good guy, Y/N. He won't love me once he realizes who I really am." He tells you, his tone miserable.

     You pull Owen into your arms and you rub his back. He holds onto you tightly. "I don't know what to tell you, Owen." You whisper.

     "I can't lose the boy's love." He breathes.

     "Well then maybe consider not being a mercenary anymore, Owen. If you want your son to be proud of who his daddy is, then do the right thing. Stop hurting people. Stop killing people. Don't being a mercenary."

     "You make it sound so easy." He murmurs.

     "It is easy, Owen. Just let go of it all. No strings attached. Nothing. Live a normal life."

     Owen looks back at you, unsure. "I-I don't know if I can do that." He admits.

    You grab his arm and pull him out of the room so that you both can see Asher playing on the floor. "Asher or your job, Owen. You need to choose which you love more and which is more important to you. If you want to be sure Asher is proud of who you are, what choice will you make?" You whisper harshly. Owen just stares at you and swallows. You raise your eyebrows and walk back into the kitchen.

     "My son. I want my son." Owen whispers quietly. You smile.
[THE END] I hope you liked it!