Hidden Desires - Family Secrets-Chapter 191 He seemed more mature than before

The next morning, Luna called me with an update from the medical team.

Their observations were pretty much what I had expected.

Michael was behaving normally, thankfully without the previous bouts of hatred.

However, the doctors pointed out a peculiar detail: Michael had definitely seen something during the twenty minutes he was out of his room at night, as evidenced by the noticeable increase in his sighs upon his return.

According to the doctors’ meticulous analysis, Michael sighed twice an hour before his nocturnal wandering.

After returning, his sighs doubled to four times an hour.

I couldn’t help but admire the medical team’s attention to detail; they didn’t miss a thing.

Luna regretfully informed me that the surveillance only covered Michael’s bedroom.

As for what Michael saw or what happened during those twenty minutes, it remained a mystery.

After hanging up, I couldn’t help but replay that video in my mind.

Indeed, I had noticed a change in Michael when he returned from his midnight excursion.

At the time, I had dismissed it as a normal reaction to revisiting old haunts, but the medical team seemed to take this detail very seriously, despite the lack of video evidence to investigate further.

Luna mentioned that Michael had reported back to her that morning before being whisked away by the doctors, which explained why I hadn’t seen him at her place.

According to Luna, Michael’s behavior was normal, just like the day before.

Sitting in my office, I felt a surge of anxiety, spurred by the doctors’ concern.

Fortunately, no one knew about the comprehensive surveillance system installed at my home.

What the doctors couldn’t see, I could review.

With this in mind, I seized a rare moment of downtime to open my laptop.

Despite a twinge of doubt and nervousness, I felt relatively at ease.

I didn’t believe that Betty and Michael could have resumed their affair in just twenty minutes.

From past observations, Michael wasn’t quick to climax; without at least forty minutes, he wouldn’t have finished.

Even if he had entered Betty immediately upon leaving his room and returned without delay, a perfect lovemaking session would have been impossible.

Moreover, I’m a light sleeper.

Any sounds of intimacy, however discreet, would have woken me, especially since I hadn’t slept well the previous night.

Before I could start the video, a detail from last night popped into my head.

In my half-asleep state, I had sensed that Betty also got up in the middle of the night.

At the time, I hadn’t thought much of it, but now I wondered if her timing coincided with Michael’s.

I launched the home surveillance footage, relying on it as my primary source of truth.

This video was my biggest secret, one that I couldn’t share with anyone, including Luna.

The video was set to the previous night.

I opened feeds from our bedrooms and the bathroom, all synchronized and playing simultaneously.

As the seconds ticked by, I saw that Betty hadn’t really been sleeping.

Facing away from me, she opened her eyes repeatedly, her gaze clear yet filled with worry and confusion in the dark night.

When the clock struck 2:00 AM, something finally changed.

At 2:13 AM, both Betty and Michael simultaneously opened their eyes.

They rose from their beds but didn’t immediately leave their rooms.

Instead, they sat up, staring out the windows, lost in thought, their eyes reflecting a mix of bewilderment and reminiscence.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing and had to rewind the footage to watch it again.

Could it be that Betty and Michael were somehow psychically connected?

Their simultaneous awakening and getting out of bed seemed almost too synchronized, as if prearranged.

Despite looking out different windows—Betty to the north and Michael to the south—their expressions mirrored each other’s, filled with a similar blend of confusion and nostalgia.

About half a minute later, Betty made the first move.

She carefully edged around my sleeping form, her eyes softly fixed on me, as if terrified of waking me up.

Her movements were gentle as she opened the door, not flinging it open but rather turning the handle quietly.

Peeking her head out first, she surveyed the dark, silent living room, then let out a soft sigh of relief before heading to the bathroom.

Even her actions in opening the bathroom door were cautious, perhaps out of fear of waking me or Michael next door.

Betty was just in for a quick pee.

As she entered the bathroom, Michael also shifted his gaze from the window and got out of bed.

Through the frosted glass of his room, he noticed a faint light in the living room, twinkling through the darkness like fireflies.

But as Michael’s blurry vision cleared, he took a deep breath and approached his door.

He paused briefly before opening it quietly.

As he reached the bathroom door, he saw the slightly ajar door of the master bedroom but couldn’t make out anything inside due to the pitch darkness.

Michael stood by the bathroom, his expression calm but his breathing slightly hurried, unsure who might be inside.

New novel chapters are published on freewёbn૦νeɭ.com.

He seemed more mature than before.

In the past, if he knew Betty was inside, he would have barged in.

But now, he hesitated, perhaps unsure of who was inside.

What if it was me behind the door?

If he was sure it was Betty, would he have entered?

As I pondered this, the bathroom door opened.

Betty, seeing a silhouette outside, gasped in shock, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle a scream.

Michael, waiting outside and surprised to see Betty, looked both stunned and pleased, as if fate had handed him this chance.

After a moment of panic, Betty regained her composure and gave Michael a forced smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

She greeted Michael briefly with that strained smile and then tried to slip past him, her movements quick, almost like she was fleeing.

Michael, caught off guard to see Betty, was overwhelmed with surprise and delight, especially when she smiled at him.

He was momentarily dazed until Betty walked past him.

Reacting instinctively, he reached out and grabbed her hand.

Betty’s body halted at his touch, freezing in place, though she didn’t turn around.

Michael’s gesture of reaching for Betty’s hand was impulsive, and Betty’s sudden stop was just as instinctive.

Now, the scene quieted down as both stood there, connected by a silent acknowledgment of their unexpected encounter.

Betty’s hand was gently held from behind by Michael, his body shielding hers as if to protect her from the world.

They stood there, a tableau of lovers caught in a moment of decision, one longing to stay, the other perhaps ready to let go.

The scene seemed frozen in time.

Betty’s initial shock and panic slowly settled into a calm, mirrored by Michael’s own composed demeanor.

He looked down at their intertwined hands, uncertain whether to hold on or release her.

Betty didn’t pull away, giving Michael perhaps false hope, and he continued to hold on, standing silently behind her, words failing him.

"Go back to sleep..." Betty’s soft voice shattered the silence.

She gently withdrew her hand, and Michael, respecting her wish, let it slip away.

Her voice was so faint, as if fearful that I might overhear from inside the house.

"Mom..." Michael’s voice was tender, a familiar term that resonated deeply with Betty, different from the formalities of daylight.

It was a nickname from a time when they were closer, and it made Betty pause her retreat.

Unseen by Michael, Betty closed her eyes, bit her lip, and a struggle flickered across her face.

Eventually, she opened her eyes, a firm resolve shining through.

"Go back to sleep..." She repeated, her tone colder this time, whether feigned or genuine, I couldn’t tell.

Hearing this, Michael hesitated, words on the tip of his tongue, but ultimately, he remained silent.

Betty entered our bedroom, and Michael sighed deeply before heading to the bathroom.

After a while, he returned to the bedroom, his demeanor changed, clearly wounded by Betty’s coldness, his sighs heavier and more frequent.

Meanwhile, Betty, now in bed, turned to face me.

She gazed at my sleeping face, her expression complex and unreadable.

Eventually, she turned away, but not before gently touching the corner of her eye.

I replayed the surveillance footage and zoomed in to see a faint tear glistening at the edge of her eye—a tear that spoke volumes.

It suggested that her cold words might not reflect her true feelings, perhaps a façade to protect Michael from further hurt.

After watching the footage, I finally understood what had transpired in those brief 20 minutes.

It was surprising, yet somehow better than I had anticipated.

Two people, once entangled in a forbidden intimacy, had met in a moment that led to an instinctive physical connection.

Betty’s rejection, however, left Michael feeling sorrowful.

Seeing Betty’s tear, I felt uneasy, yet upon reflection, perhaps she deserved some understanding.

After all, she is a woman led by her emotions.

And Michael?

He’s still a child in many ways, still healing.

Perhaps that’s the only reason I can find to forgive him...