Husband kicks pregnant wife out of car on highway during storm because of mother’s advice, 30 minutes later, they return to see a scene that makes them regret

A strong storm, issued by PAGASA Signal No. 3, hit Southern Luzon late in the afternoon. The wind howled, the rain lashed the road surface on the SLEX–STAR Tollway along Batangas. In the 7-seat SUV, Miguel – the husband – gripped the steering wheel tightly, squinting through the misty rain. Next to him was Lani – his wife – with a worried face, her hand constantly placed on her stomach because she was 5 months pregnant.

Amidst the chaos of nature, a phone call sparked an argument. Nanay Cora – Miguel’s mother – called repeatedly, instructing: “Pregnant women must listen to their elders, don’t argue, or the whole family will be unlucky.” She also urged Miguel to “dissuade” Lani because since she was pregnant, she had become stubborn and rarely listened to her in-laws. Those words, right when Miguel was stressed because of the storm, seemed to add fuel to the fire.

Lani was tired but determined: “Whatever you do, don’t use the pregnancy as superstition (pamahiin). I need to rest, not listen to unreasonable threats.” Miguel was angry, braking hard into the emergency lane. The wind was howling, the rain was whipping like a whip. He opened the door and shouted:
“Get out of the car! Think you’re right!”

Lani was stunned. She didn’t expect her husband to do that in the middle of a storm. Seeing Miguel’s bloodshot eyes, she had no choice. Lani held her stomach, shivering, and stepped out into the rain. The car sped away, leaving a long water trail on the empty highway.

Lani stood still for nearly half an hour. Her clothes were soaked, her stomach was heavy, her limbs were shaking. Occasionally, a few container trucks passed by, their headlights flashing and then disappearing.

In her despair, a small truck slowed down. The driver – a middle-aged man – rolled down the window and shouted through the rain:
“Ate! Why are you standing in the middle of a storm like this? Get in the car, it’s dangerous!”

Lani hesitated, then nodded, staggering up the cabin. The driver, Mang Rodel, was transporting produce from Lucena (Quezon) to Calamba. He looked at Lani through the mirror as he drove, and sighed:

“You’re pregnant and left her in the middle of the road during a storm? Where is your home? I’ll take you to the nearest bus stop.”

Hearing this, Lani burst into tears, briefly recounting what had just happened. Mang Rodel fell silent and said:

“If a man doesn’t know how to protect his wife, having a home is useless. Don’t worry, it’s safer to go to the service area.”

As for Miguel, after driving for about 30 minutes, his anger gradually cooled. A flash of lightning made him shiver: “What if she slips and falls? What if something happens to the baby?” Fear came over him, Miguel turned the car around, and drove back through the rain to the same spot.

When he got there, there were only puddles of water. Lani was nowhere to be seen. Miguel’s heart felt like it had dropped. He opened the door, calling out loudly – ​​his voice was lost in the storm.

Miguel gritted his teeth and ran along the highway, eyes straining in the rain. Finally, when he reached the service area a few kilometers away, he was stunned: Lani was sitting in a small shop, covered by a raincoat by passersby, her arms wrapped around her stomach, her face pale but her eyes determined. Next to her was Mang Rodel pouring a cup of hot ginger tea (salabat).

Miguel walked in, soaked as a rat, his eyes panicked. Lani just glanced and turned away, tears streaming down her face. Not because of weakness – but because of the pain of being abandoned by her own husband.

Mang Rodel stood up, looked at Miguel seriously:
“You are still young, but as a husband and father, remember: your wife and children are the ones you have to protect. In the middle of a storm, leaving your pregnant wife on the road – if something happens, you will regret it for the rest of your life. Don’t let anger and other people’s words cloud your reason.”

Those words were like a hammer hitting Miguel’s chest. He knelt down, held his wife’s hand, his voice trembling:
“I’m sorry… I was wrong. From now on, I won’t let you suffer alone anymore.”

Lani withdrew her hand. Forgiveness could not be done in a day. Miguel understood: he had just been on the brink of losing everything.

After the storm, they returned home in silence. Nanay Cora still called, but this time Miguel was resolute:

“Mom, I respect you, but my wife and I have to decide for myself. I cannot let pamahiin harm our family.”

Lani heard. The hurt was still there, but she knew her husband had begun to change.

The storm outside would eventually pass; the storm inside would only calm down when people learned to love and protect each other properly.

Three months later, the small family welcomed a healthy baby girl at the Batangas Provincial Hospital. The baby’s first cry seemed to dispel the old storm. Miguel stood outside the delivery room, tears streaming down his face. When the nurse placed the baby in his arms, he whispered:

“Baby… I almost lost both of you. From now on, I will not let that happen again.”

From inside the room, Lani looked out. Her eyes were still wary, but seeing her husband holding the baby clumsily and carefully, her heart gradually softened. Forgiveness does not come immediately; but love can sprout from small things – the look of a father holding his baby for the first time, the clumsy hands wiping sweat off his wife after giving birth.

In the following days, Miguel took the initiative to do housework: staying up all night to change diapers, making milk, lulling the baby to sleep so Lani could rest. Once Nanay Cora told her “you must listen to your elders in everything you do”, Miguel calmly said:

“Relations between relatives and worship – I listen to you, Mom. But about my wife and children – please let us take care of it ourselves.”

Having accidentally heard this, Lani’s eyes welled up with tears. For the first time, she saw her husband truly mature – knowing how to stand up to protect their small family from outside pressure.

One clear afternoon, the baby slept soundly, Lani said softly:

“Do you remember the stormy night? I thought that day… we were over.”
Miguel squeezed his wife’s hand:

“I remember. And because I remember, I am even more afraid. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to be a husband, a father.”

They did not make empty promises. They just held each other’s hands tightly. From then on, every time a storm came, Miguel reminded himself of the lesson of SLEX–STAR that year – the lesson that almost took everything away. As for Lani, deep down, learned how to maintain the strength of a mother, a wife – so that she would never be abandoned, even in the midst of a storm.

Their story continued, like any normal family – with disagreements, challenges and simple happiness. But one thing was certain: after the storm, they understood that only by holding each other’s hands tightly, could they get through the stormy days.