Hidden Desires - Family Secrets-Chapter 256 I took a deep breath

After a long flight from the UK back to the States, the plane touched down as darkness enveloped the sky.

Stepping out of the cabin, I was greeted by the familiar warmth and humidity, the air of home filling my lungs as I stretched my arms high, relishing the sheer comfort of being back.

The fatigue from hours in the air vanished the moment I breathed in that hometown scent.

Glancing at my watch, it was nearing midnight.

Following my assistant, we headed to the hotel I had booked in advance.

For this trip, Luna had assigned her most capable aides to me, ensuring I wouldn’t have to worry about security or daily needs.

Lying on the luxurious suite’s king-sized bed, my mind was a whirlwind of emotions.

The predominant feeling was anxiety.

It had been so long; what had become of everything?

I had left all my assets behind—cars, the house.

Were they still there, or had Betty sold them off?

Perhaps she and Michael had even sold the cottage and moved abroad.

I had planned to investigate these matters at dawn, but sleep eluded me as I lay in bed.

I could have easily delegated this task to my subordinates, as they were professionals, but some details are too personal, too private to share.

Family scandals are best kept under wraps.

After tossing and turning, I got up, dressed, and walked out.

The bodyguard on duty silently followed.

The great thing about these suited shadows is their discretion; no matter where you go or what you do, they just silently accompany you, like your own shadow.

"I need a car to myself. Follow me but keep your distance. Don’t make it obvious..." I instructed the head of security as we stepped out of the hotel and a chauffeur opened the car door for me.

Driving a sleek black car through familiar streets, with covert cars ahead and behind me, I felt cocooned yet unobtrusive.

The convenience of high society life is intoxicating, yet my current mood allowed no room for enjoyment.

As I drove closer to my old neighborhood, my anxiety mounted.

The streets and buildings were all too familiar, unchanged.

In less than half an hour, I pulled into my old neighborhood.

It was past midnight, the area shrouded in darkness, with only a few lit windows in some buildings.

The season was nearing autumn, and the central garden’s flora was wilted, the leaves fallen—mirroring my current mood.

Looking up at the familiar apartment block, it was as I expected: dark, seemingly uninhabited.

But to my relief and surprise, the curtains of what used to be mine and Betty’s bedroom were drawn.

It was too dark to see the color of the curtains; I wondered if they were still the same ones.

Someone was definitely sleeping in that room, but was it Betty?

Had the house changed owners?

Even if Betty was there, was she alone or with Michael?

Perhaps they were now openly living together, posing as mother and son in public but as husband and wife at home.

Ever since my memory came flooding back, thoughts of Betty and Michael haunted me, spinning a web of possibilities that led to a rather shocking conclusion: Betty might have been trying to conceive with Michael.

This suspicion first arose because they never used protection during sex, always opting for ejaculation inside her, and their encounters seemed ruthlessly efficient, almost clinical.

I remember one instance in the courtyard where Betty simply stripped down and bent over the couch for Michael, as if they were ticking off a checklist rather than making love.

It was all about the act, nothing more.

Betty had always yearned for a child.

She might not have spoken about it, but her longing was evident.

Whenever we passed by a kindergarten, she would freeze, watching the children play or listening to their voices, her eyes filled with envy.

Sometimes, she would look back longingly, as if our own children were among them.

There were numerous times when I’d drive home and find Betty leaning on the kindergarten fence, captivated by the sight of the children playing, as if it were more fascinating than any movie.

Given my infertility issues, and knowing that only Michael and I had been intimate with her, the possibility of her seeking to conceive with Michael wasn’t far-fetched.

After all, the overwhelming desire to be a mother might have driven her to irrational decisions.

Moreover, there might have been an element of revenge against me.

If Michael had secretly revealed to Betty that he was my biological son, and shared the tragic stories of Laura and his own difficult childhood, could that have spurred her into a relationship with him as a form of retaliation?

And if Michael’s heartfelt ’speech’ had moved her, might she have acted out of a misguided sense of compassion?

All these thoughts were mere speculations, but they were supported by the palpable maternal longing I sensed in Betty.

It’s often said on TV that a mother would do anything for her child.

Could Betty, driven by her desire for a child, have been prepared to sacrifice everything, including our relationship?

Staring at the darkened room behind the curtains, I realized I couldn’t enter; I had left my keys behind when I left.

Pulling out my phone, I dialed Betty’s number from memory, my heart pounding with nervous anticipation.

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Whether or not she had changed her number would be telling.

If she was planning to elope with Michael, she would have erased all old contacts to cover her tracks.

If her number was the same, perhaps there was still a chance she was waiting for me.

Just the other day, I had pressed Luna for information about whether Betty had tried to contact her.

Initially, Luna denied it, but under my persistent questioning, she admitted with regret that she had told Betty I was dead, that I had committed suicide, and urged her not to wait for me anymore.

After that, Luna changed her contact information, and Betty never reached out to her again.

Luna had been overwhelmed by Betty’s persistent attempts to contact her, showing up at her office daily until Luna, fearing the repercussions of the truth coming out, had lied to protect me.

After all, she believed the old me was truly gone, and Betty no longer had any right to know about my situation.

Moreover, she hoped Betty could move on. After hanging up the phone with Betty, Luna even had someone watch over her for several days, fearing she might harm herself, as she didn’t want me to hate her because of this.

If Betty really believed it, she might have already given up on searching for me. Thus, checking if she had changed her phone number seemed pointless.

Despite feeling it was futile, I decided to give it a try. In the past, Betty always turned off her phone at night, without exception, so the chances of getting through to her now were incredibly slim. Even if Betty hadn’t changed her phone, there might be no answer or other issues.

I took a deep breath, expelled all the negative emotions from my body, and pressed the call button...