Hidden Desires - Family Secrets-Chapter 147 In my dreams, I felt a woman climb into my bed Part1

I cut her off again, unable to help myself from asking if she knew the reason behind my troubles, the secrets of Betty and Michael.

Family scandals are meant to be kept quiet, and I was no exception.

Despite having left home, I had no intention of exposing Betty and Michael.

I only hoped to take this secret to my grave...

Luna didn’t speak, just sat in silence for a long while before she finally nodded, then shook her head.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked, puzzled by her mixed signals.

"I know some... not all," she replied, looking up at me.

Her demeanor the night before had been decisive and swift, but now she hesitated, her words faltering.

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At this point, I was beyond caring about other matters, so I remained calm, devoid of any shame.

I just gave a wry smile and shook my head, reaching instinctively towards the nightstand.

When I smoked in bed, my cigarettes and lighter were always there.

It was only when I made this subconscious gesture that I realized I wasn’t at home.

My hand grasped at thin air.

I reluctantly withdrew my hand, feeling at a loss about what to do next, when suddenly a pack of cigarettes appeared before me.

I looked up to see Luna offering me a cigarette, which she lit for me.

Then, to my surprise, she lit one for herself.

I noticed the pack was already open and a few had been smoked, indicating that Luna was a smoker too—a woman with a story, no doubt.

I took a deep drag of the cigarette, not recognizing the brand, letting the nicotine fill my lungs, trying to numb my body.

But as soon as the smoke hit my lungs, I couldn’t help but cough violently.

The cigarette was harsh, sending a fiery sensation from my mouth straight to my lungs, as if someone had poured chili water up my nose.

Luna quickly came over to pat my back, her expression panicked.

"Sorry, I forgot to tell you, these are Cuban, very strong and quite spicy—they’re ranked among the top in the world for tobacco," Luna said apologetically as she patted my back.

No wonder it was so intense.

My face felt numb, and I was dizzy.

It was just one puff, but the Cuban cigarette had me baffled.

I couldn’t understand the text or brand on the pack.

It took a while before my coughing subsided.

I took the tissue Luna offered and wiped away my tears.

After I finished, I saw Luna expertly blowing smoke rings from the same fiery cigarette that had nearly choked me.

"I’ve gotten used to them over the years... Only this kind of cigarette really hits the spot for me," Luna said after exhaling a cloud of smoke.

She looked embarrassed as she caught me watching her, but I could see a trace of sadness in her expression.

I didn’t ask when she started smoking, but it probably had something to do with her marriage.

From the album and her words, it seemed she used cigarettes to numb herself during her loneliest times, especially the strongest and spiciest ones.

I didn’t want to flatter myself, but I realized I had understood a lot just now.

Yet, I felt no pride or relief, only guilt and sorrow, as I had inadvertently hurt a woman and delayed her life.

Luna smoked the cigarette down to the filter before tossing it away, her eyes lingering with a hint of reluctance.

She sneakily glanced at the nightstand, probably contemplating smoking another if I weren’t there.

We fell into a brief silence.

When Luna picked up the bowl of porridge to feed me, I took it from her hands, not used to being fed by a woman.

Luna just watched me, her eyes filled with contentment and happiness.

To her, I was not just another person; she had been quietly observing my every move.

But to me, she was still a stranger, her familiarity with me now almost unbelievable, as if I were dreaming.

"You rest, I’ll come back later to keep you company," she said.

She called the maid, who, along with Luna, pushed the food cart out of the room.

The room fell silent again, but sleep was the last thing on my mind.

I could smell a distinct fragrance lingering on the cup, the same scent that clung to Luna.

In the quiet, I finally took the chance to really look around the room.

I got out of bed and noticed the photos on the walls, the elegant decor, and the array of expensive clothes hanging on the rack...

This was Luna’s boudoir, and she had let me sleep here.

I returned to the bed, feeling empty inside.

Thoughts of home invaded my mind.

What was it like now?

Were Betty and Michael happy without me?

I glanced at the memorial tablet of my parents, wishing I could join them.

Without Betty, without a home, what was the point of my existence?

I had lived for my wife and my home, and now, all was lost.

Was Betty falling apart too?

I couldn’t tell.

Legally, we were still married; I should at least finalize our divorce.

Luna’s room had a computer.

Several times I thought about logging into the home surveillance system to check on things, but I couldn’t muster the courage.

Heartbroken as I was, seeing something worse could push me over the edge.

I didn’t make the call.

Instead, I sat on the bed, lost in memories, trying to avoid the painful ones.

Even if I were to die, I wanted to leave with some peace of mind.

I don’t know how much time passed before the maid came in with a dinner cart.

Silver lids covered several dishes.

When the maid lifted them, I saw ingredients I’d only ever seen on TV.

The maids stood before me, their expressions respectful yet filled with intense curiosity.

They had heard from Luna that she disdained all men, her demeanor always cold.

Now, suddenly, there was a man in her boudoir, being well cared for.

No wonder they were so surprised.

If it weren’t for their professionalism, they might have asked outright.

In the past, I would have devoured such a meal, having never tasted such delicacies.

But now, despite the excellent flavors, my heart wasn’t in it.

I had no appetite and stopped eating after a few bites.

The maid brought a cup for me to rinse my mouth, a gesture fit for a wealthy lord, but honestly, I wasn’t accustomed to such treatment.

I lay back on the bed, planning to contact a lawyer about the divorce once I felt better.

No matter what the future held, I couldn’t keep hanging on to a marriage with Betty.

At some point, I drifted off into a deep sleep.

In my dreams, I felt a woman climb into my bed, but then I remembered nothing more, lost in the depths of sleep.