When Does Sloane Say The Weather Will Stabilize After Extremes?

When the hurricane shattered the floor-to-ceiling windows, our five-year-old daughter and the nanny's dog were both swept toward the broken edge, only moments away from plunging to their deaths. There was only one rescue cushion left. The nanny, Wade Jenkins, grabbed my wife Sophie Lynch's hand first, tears streaming down his face. "Sophie, Dobie is my emotional support dog. Without him... I won't survive." Seeing the hesitation in her eyes, I dropped to my knees. "Sophie, please... Save Anna first! She has asthma. She won't last much longer..." For a brief moment, Sophie stood frozen. Then, with chilling indifference, she pried my fingers from her arm. "We can always have another child, but Wade can't live without Dobie. I'm saving the dog first." What she did not know was that there would never be another child. The moment she chose the nanny's dog over our daughter, I chose to walk away from our marriage forever.

It started with a sudden downpour. I turned around to buy an umbrella. By the time I got back, Winston Sterling had already draped his overcoat across Sera Thorne’s shoulders. He pulled me under the umbrella, his tone gentle, as if soothing a spoiled child. "Sera can't handle the cold. Just let her have it this once, Nat. Be a good girl. Don't make a fuss." I looked down at my own shoulder, which was already completely soaked through. I didn't say a word. We had been building our startup for five years. Everyone always said Winston and Sera were the dual heart and soul of Sterling Tech. One wrote the code, while the other pitched the product. Meanwhile, I was the one managing the budgets, chasing down clients, advancing money for our office rent, and pulling all-nighters to grind out business proposals. Yet, all I ever got from him was a single, offhand sentence. "Nat, you're always the reasonable one." But I finally understood. It was always the reasonable one who got pushed out into the rain, time and time again. When the car door opened, Winston practiced an all-too-familiar routine, adjusting the passenger seat cushion for Sera. That was a lumbar support cushion I had bought for myself after injuring my waist. I threw the newly purchased umbrella straight into the trash can. Then, I pulled up my phone and clicked send on the equity exit agreement I had prepared long ago. Three minutes later, his reply came back as a brief, three-word text. "Don't be silly." What he didn't know was that at that exact same moment, I had also opened another email.

I had a mild hearing impairment, which left me mostly deaf in my right ear. Growing up, Tristan Lockhart always made it a point to stand on my right side. "That way, if anyone tries to talk behind your back, I'll be the first to hear it," he used to tell me. Eventually, we got engaged, and the wedding invitations were already printed and ready to go. Everyone around us kept saying how incredibly blessed I was to have a childhood sweetheart who had spent over a decade shielding me from the world. That was until Sunny Pierce joined Tristan’s company. She was stunning, vibrant, and always spoke with a radiant smile plastered across her face. The very first time she met me, she stared intently at my hearing aid for a long moment before turning to Tristan with a playful laugh. "With her like that, can she even hear you whisper sweet nothings in her ear at night?" My face drained of all color, but Tristan merely furrowed his brow slightly. "Sunny just speaks before she thinks. Don't take it to heart." On the day of our wedding rehearsal. I stood right outside the heavy chapel doors, listening to Sunny mockingly read my vows aloud. "Thank you for tolerating me as your constant complication for over a decade. I promise to be your comfort, your constant shadow, and your favorite complication for the rest of my life." The entire room erupted into a chorus of laughter, and Tristan let out a soft chuckle along with them. "Stop messing around," he said, his voice carrying a light laugh. "If she overhears you changing the words, she's going to get upset again." Sunny paused, her tone turning playful. "Are you seriously still going to marry her, then?" Tristan fell completely silent for two long seconds. "The invitations have already been sent out," he finally replied, his voice flat. "What else am I supposed to do at this point?" I stood frozen at the very end of the corridor. The umbrella he had once gifted me was still dripping rainwater onto the tile floor. But suddenly, I had absolutely no desire to walk through those doors.

On the night the hurricane is about to hit us, my brother-in-law, George Madden, calls again right after the Extreme Wind Warnings are issued for a Category 5 hurricane. When I hear his hysterical sobbing on the phone, I calmly hand the phone to my wife, Taylor Cochran, who is next to me, and continue sealing the balcony. I don't know what he says on the other end of the line, but Taylor keeps responding and nodding repeatedly before putting on her raincoat and turning to me with an apologetic smile on her face. "Honey, George's window just broke, and Ryan won't stop crying. It's hard for him to take care of his son by himself. I'll go and pop by their house and check on him and Ryan. But I'll make sure to be back before the hurricane hits." It's always like this between us. Everything she tells me is always only an announcement with no room for discussion. Things have never changed over the past five years of our marriage. George will always call every time there's a heavy storm or some thunder and lightning, asking for Taylor to go over. He claims it's from some PTSD or something. In the past, I always get upset and fight with Taylor about it. However, she keeps refuting that, "Tiffany died too young, leaving him to raise Ryan on his own. He doesn't have it easy because he knows nothing about motherhood. We should help him as much as we can. "You're a strong man, aren't you? You're fully able to take care of yourself and our Timmy, can't you?" A strong wind blasts right through the glass windows, and a broken shard cuts into my leg, leaving a nasty, bloody gash behind. I stroke the wool sweater next to me that I still haven't finished knitting. After tonight, Timmy and I are not going to need Taylor by our side anymore.

My older sister Katie said she missed me and requested I visit her. The second day at her place, the apocalyptic heatwave arrived. I fought tooth and nail in the supermarket for food and coolant—she told me I'm shameless and have no self-respect. I offered a high price in the community chat for supplies—she sneered at me and said that anything stored for so long must be disgusting, contaminated by bacteria. Yet, she threw herself into the arms of the man living across the hallway just for a bit of food. While cuddled in his arms, she watched me die in the heatwave. When I opened my eyes again, I heard her on the phone saying she missed me. Well, keep on missing me!

Olivia Statler hates Logan Hayes. It's not the fact that he's an executive of a rival travel company, or the fact that he's trying to buy her company, or even the fact that he won't leave her alone. Two years ago, the two of them seemed to have something that was amazing and real, but Logan's ego got in the way. When a new resort offers her an all-expense-paid trip to woo new clients, she figures that a working vacation is just what she needs. As the youngest CEO in the travel business, she's honored and flattered. However, she isn't the only executive that the resort invited. When Olivia sees the broad shoulders and blonde hair of Logan Hayes, her heart races. Half of it is raw sexual attraction, half of it is anger at what he did to her. Logan is determined to reignite their past spark, but Olivia does everything possible to avoid him. However, a hurricane strikes and traps them on the island, making it impossible to ignore the changed man in front of her. Only a storm as powerful as their passion will show them love or hate. Can romance survive the storm – or will their hurricane kisses be swept away forever?