Hidden Desires - Family Secrets-Chapter 214 Had Betty betrayed me again? Part1

Betty was always a homebody, the kind who’d spend her days off nestled within the confines of her home, tidying up and cleaning without ever stepping outside.

But something was off these past few days.

Why was she coming home so late?

Could it be...?

I quickly grabbed the laptop from the passenger seat, fired it up, and pulled up the surveillance footage.

I had brought the laptop just in case I needed it.

When the screen lit up, the small courtyard was empty, the homeowner still absent.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

For a moment, I had thought Betty might have gone to the courtyard and just missed crossing paths with me.

I pulled out my phone, intending to call Betty and ask about her whereabouts, but I hesitated and eventually decided against it.

Calling Betty too often might make her suspicious, especially since I rarely contacted her when I was away on business trips due to work demands.

Sitting in the car, I couldn’t stay calm.

I couldn’t call her, but what if something had happened at home?

My mind raced back to that night two years ago, Betty and Michael...

I took a deep breath, dressed myself properly, and headed resolutely towards the front door of our home.

It was reckless, but I was slightly out of my mind, driven by one single thought—I needed to go home.

I don’t even remember how I got to the front door.

I couldn’t find any answers, and I knew I couldn’t go on like this much longer; I might lose my mind.

I felt like a monkey being toyed with.

If Betty wasn’t home, I’d call her.

If she was, it might be better to have a direct conversation and clear the air.

Somehow, I found the courage to take out my keys and open the door.

As I entered, the familiar scent of home hit me.

The house was pitch dark.

I didn’t turn on the lights because the room was silent, not a sound to be heard.

Using the light from the doorway, I noticed two pairs of slippers at the entrance, positioned as if someone had just left the house.

This indicated that Betty hadn’t come home; these were the slippers left behind when someone went out.

Betty wasn’t home.

I reached for my phone to call her...

Wait, two pairs of slippers?

That meant two people had left the house, and one pair was men’s slippers.

In our home, only Betty wore the women’s slippers, and the men’s slippers were worn by Michael and me.

However, we kept our slippers separate due to my slight obsession with cleanliness; I didn’t like sharing clothes or shoes with anyone, and Michael knew this because he shared the same quirk.

The men’s slippers facing the door were Michael’s.

It was a small detail that others might not notice, even Betty might not have realized, but it was revealing.

My body shook.

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This couldn’t be true.

Michael was abroad; it couldn’t be him.

Maybe a friend had come over and casually worn Michael’s slippers.

Yes, that could be it.

Maybe Betty was hosting a dinner, perhaps with a close girlfriend.

I kept making up excuses for Betty in my mind.

But none of the excuses seemed valid.

I clenched my phone tightly, feeling like I couldn’t breathe.

Nothing was certain yet, but all the little details and signs were pointing in a direction I dreaded to acknowledge.

Could it be true?

Had Betty betrayed me again?

If so, why?

Didn’t she love me anymore?

I slowly walked to the balcony, a place where I had hidden myself several times before, where the memorial tablets of my parents were kept.

Sitting on the small stool on the balcony, looking at my parents’ memorial tablets, I suddenly felt pathetic.

I realized I didn’t have a single friend I could truly confide in, not even Luna.

Betty was the one I had vowed to stand by for life, but now everything seemed on the verge of collapse.

My parents were in another world, and there I was on the balcony, not to hide or spy, but simply to be with my parents and find solace in the memories of family love.

Perhaps I was just too exhausted, because I found myself dozing off on the small stool, my head resting on my knees.

I was truly worn out.

I don’t know how long I slept, but I was awakened by some noises.

In my half-asleep state, I heard the front door open and voices speaking—two people, their voices hauntingly familiar.

Then, a woman’s scream jolted me fully awake.

I lifted my head from my knees and rubbed my eyes, squinting against the harsh light that now filled the room.

Betty was home.

From my shadowed corner, I peered into the brightly lit living room.

There was Betty, dressed in her teacher’s outfit—a blazer and a short skirt.

But she was sitting on the couch, or more accurately, on a human couch.

A man lay across my sofa, his head towards me, resting on the armrest.

I could only see the top of his head and his feet.

Betty was seated on him, her feet on the floor but her rear on his groin.

They were both fully clothed, but their positioning was far too intimate...

Was Betty using this man as a human couch?

Yet, Betty’s expression seemed oddly strained...

What was going on?

That was my first reaction.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

I rubbed my eyes again and shook my head.

Was I still not fully awake?

Was this all a hallucination, or was I still dreaming?

How could Betty bring a man home?

Who was this man?

Their closeness was undeniable, with her sitting on him.

Did Betty really enjoy using someone as a human chair that much?

At that moment, my heart felt shattered.

Was Betty really messing around with another man?

Was all of this real?

I could only see the top of the man’s head, not his face.

I couldn’t stay calm.

I stood up from the stool, tiptoeing to try and get a better angle to see the man’s face, but he was lying with his hands under his head, his face angled at 45 degrees towards Betty, making it impossible for me to see.

I told myself to stay calm and not rush out just yet.

First, I needed to figure out who this man was.

If he turned out to be some distant relative of Betty’s, I would have caused a huge misunderstanding.

How would I explain that to Betty?

I kept reassuring myself.

After all, they hadn’t done anything yet; their clothes were still on, and there was no kissing or other intimate gestures.

Maybe Betty was just playing around with a family member or a younger relative.

Even if this man was indeed Betty’s lover and they had been intimate, bursting out now wouldn’t fix anything.

It might be better to stay hidden and gather more information.