Hidden Desires - Family Secrets

"Hello?" Michael answered the phone, his voice tinged with suspicion and a hint of excitement.

"Michael, come home now..." The voice on the other end was unmistakably Betty's. Her voice was loud, so clear that I could hear it perfectly.

"Ah... home... go back..." Michael stuttered, clearly taken aback. He was thrilled to hear from Betty, relieved she wasn't mad at him anymore, but her urgent request made him suspicious.

"Cut the crap, just come back..." Betty sounded frantic over the phone, her voice raised in urgency.

"Oh... okay..." Michael was slow to respond, caught off guard by the unexpected call, but he hastily agreed.

As soon as Michael consented, the call ended. He stared at his phone, dazed, struggling to make sense of the situation. Yet, he dared not ignore Betty's command and quickly dressed and dashed out of his room, leaving the house eerily quiet.

It seemed Betty had come home to find me passed out. Unable to move me by herself, she panicked and called Michael without considering anyone else.

Betty must have been truly desperate. Otherwise, she could have sought help elsewhere, but no one else would have responded with such promptness and urgency.

Though I didn't see Betty at that moment, the fear and near tears in her voice over the phone painted a vivid picture of her distress. If she hadn't been terrified and out of her wits, she wouldn't have called Michael for help, especially given the risks.

If I had woken up and seen Michael, our secret would have been exposed. But in her desperation, Betty didn't care. This thought touched me, yet the fact that she turned to Michael first in her moment of need left a bitter taste in my mouth.

If I hadn't passed out, I wondered, in another desperate situation, who would Betty think of first? Michael or me?

Perhaps my thoughts were growing dark, but I couldn't help but consider another possibility. I remembered waking up much later alone, with only Betty tidying up the room and later taking a shower.

Could something have happened between Michael and Betty after they settled me in? Such scenarios are typical in novels, but could it be real?

In the past, I would have scoffed at such ideas, but now, too many unbelievable yet real events forced me to entertain these thoughts.

Unfortunately, the surveillance system at Betty's place was broken, offering no insights into what had happened at home. How I wished I could see what had transpired! Then I remembered the items Luna had given me, which I hadn't fully examined yet. Perhaps they held some clues.

Since I couldn't see what happened at home, I continued to monitor the situation outside.

I wanted to see if Michael returned that night and at what time. I fast-forwarded the footage to around 9:41 PM when the lights in the house turned on.

Michael had been gone for over three hours by then. Considering the drive back and forth, he had been out for at least an hour and forty minutes.

My thoughts darkened further, wondering if Michael had been in my house all that time. Even if he was treating me, it shouldn't have taken that long.

The more I thought about it, the more I tormented myself with these suspicions, whether they were baseless worries or not.

Thinking of Betty and Michael in my house, treating me while I was unconscious, I felt no gratitude, only disgust. If I could, I would rather have died.

The video fast-forwarded, and Michael returned to the courtyard, stripping off his clothes to take a shower. After his shower, he dressed and left again, not returning for the entire night.

Where did Michael go? I was certain he hadn't returned to my house, confirming my suspicion that he must have another place to stay.

Just as I was about to close the video, a sudden realization struck me like lightning, snapping me to attention.

My hands trembling, I reached for the mouse and fast-forwarded the video to the moment Michael answered the phone. At that time, Michael was completely naked, and my focus shifted to his penis.

It was just after he had sex with Betty, and he hadn't showered yet. His penis was covered with a layer of dried semen and vaginal fluid, encrusting it like a layer of white film until he dressed and rushed to my house without taking a bath.

After confirming this, I fast-forwarded the video to when Michael returned from my house and started to shower. This time, I paid close attention to his penis. Before he stepped into the shower, I noticed his penis was clean, the white crusty layer gone.

"Thump..." I leaned back in my chair, overwhelmed by the dark thoughts I had entertained. Despite my reluctance to believe, the changes in Michael's penis forced me to accept the truth. If they hadn't had sex, why would there be such a change?

Why was it suddenly clean? He couldn't have showered at my place; if he had, why would he need another shower upon returning?

There was only one possibility: Betty had "cleaned" Michael's penis, but she used her vaginal walls to do so.

I slumped over the desk, my hands pounding it as a headache surged through me.

I couldn't understand why Betty would engage in sex with Michael under those circumstances. I was right there in the house, unconscious.

Wasn't she afraid I might wake up? In such a vulnerable state, how could she even be in the mood?

These thoughts made me question the sincerity of Betty's earlier phone call. What was real, and what was fake? My head throbbed with pain.

Perhaps clinging to a last shred of hope, I decided that after today, I would go back to the office tomorrow and retrieve everything Luna had given me from the safe.

I needed to see what was inside. Everything had gone beyond my expectations, and I couldn't think of anything else.

As I sat there, massaging my temples and lost in thought, a familiar and unsettling noise came from outside. It was the sound of the old wooden gate of the courtyard being opened, a sound I had heard many times in the videos.

I rushed to the window and saw a black Accord parked at the courtyard entrance. Due to the lighting and the tinted windows, I couldn't see inside the car.

After Michael opened all the doors, he drove the car inside.

Had Betty come? Was she really there? Was she sitting in Michael's car right now? Maybe Michael had picked her up from school.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed the recent turmoil to the back of my mind, rubbed my tense cheeks, and turned on the live surveillance feed on my laptop.