Storm Warning: My Wife Runs to Him

Brandon's POV

The already precarious sliding glass door leading out to the balcony suddenly shattered with a deafening crash. Almost at once, the Category 5 hurricane we were all warned about tore into the living room, and rain lashed in.

Everything inside our apartment was swept away in the blink of an eye, leaving behind total chaos.

My son, Timmy Hooper, was barely two months old, and he was instantly awakened by the loud commotion. He began crying loudly and incessantly in his crib from the sudden shock.

I dragged my injured leg and trudged across the shards of broken glass on the floor in the darkness, rushing over to the crib as quickly as possible to shield him from the raging wind with my body.

"It's okay, Timmy. Don't be afraid. Daddy's here…"

I hugged him tightly against my chest, comforting him in a shaky voice. However, I couldn't afford to give in just yet.

Just ten minutes ago, my wife, Taylor Cochran, had just wordlessly slipped on a raincoat and walked out into the torrential rain with the Category 5 hurricane on the way, all because of a call from her brother-in-law, George Madden.

He'd sobbed on the phone, claiming a broken window and a crying toddler, and that he just couldn't handle things on his own anymore.

Just before she disappeared out the door, I'd grabbed onto her sleeve and pointed at the howling wind outside. I pleaded, "Taylor, the balcony window is already broken. The winds are too strong outside. Please, just stay inside."

However, she just waved me off impatiently and frowned, saying, "Brandon, it's only the glass that's broken on our side, but his entire window got torn off! You know he's suffering from PTSD and has to take care of a toddler too!

"You've always been strong and reliable. I trust that you can wait at home until I come back. After all, Tiffany left us too soon, and I promised her that I would keep her son safe. And since George is the only family Ryan has now, I need to take care of him as well. Stop being so unreasonable."

I looked down at my bleeding leg and suddenly found the whole thing ridiculous. So, I had to put up with this too, just because I was a "strong and reliable adult"?

I always treated her as my equal and thought of her as my perfect wife, but she treated me like a resilient robot who didn't need any pity or shelter.

After finally managing to calm Timmy down and putting him to sleep, I limped into the bathroom to grab the first-aid kit. Then, with the light from the occasional lightning strikes, I found the iodine and just poured half the bottle over my wound.

I bandaged my leg haphazardly and leaned against the side of the couch. My eyes fell on the three matching wool sweaters I'd been knitting for the three of us that were now soaked in rainwater. The water had been so dirty that the wool's original color couldn't even be seen anymore.

It reminded me exactly of our five-year marriage.

We'd dated for two years before tying the knot five years ago. And then, Taylor treated her sister Tiffany Cochran's dying words, asking her to take care of George and Ryan in her place, as an inviolable decree.

Over the years, George kept calling Taylor asking about how to feed Ryan, how to change his diapers, how to pick out his clothes, and more.

Taylor would immediately stop what we were doing and hurry over to him to help him out. She didn't care if we were in the middle of watching a movie, undergoing a health checkup, or celebrating our wedding anniversary.

In the past, I used to make a fuss about it and get very upset with her.

But now, I looked at my son sleeping peacefully in my arms and felt the last vestige of my hope in Taylor completely dying out.

I didn't care about posting it on my private Instagram stories or venting to my friends anymore. I didn't care about calling Taylor anymore either. None of it mattered to me.

I calmly composed a text message to a friend of mine, Saul Maynard, who worked as a divorce lawyer.

"Hey, Saul. Can you draft up a divorce agreement for me? I just want the property rights to this apartment that I bought as a premarital asset, and I must have custody of my child."

After sending out the message, I told myself silently that I would only give Taylor three more chances for Timmy's sake. And if she used up all three of her chances, then I was going to end things with her once and for all.

It wasn't until 2:00 am that my phone finally buzzed again with a text message from Taylor.

"Honey, George's window was horribly torn off, and Ryan's had quite a great shock. It's also too windy to come back now, so I won't be coming home tonight. I'll just sleep on the couch in their living room. Remember to lock the doors properly before going to sleep. Good night."

I read her perfunctory text message and didn't bother replying before locking the screen again.

Then, I held Timmy close and stayed awake until dawn as the wind and rain continued howling outside.