I had installed the camera for nothing？

"Go ahead, after all, the kid hasn't recovered yet. Wait until he's better before you come back to sleep here..." I replied almost without thinking. As a man and the head of the household, I should be more generous.

Betty was right, why should I compete with a child? Besides, this child will still be our son in the future. Moreover, I wanted to show Betty that I wasn't petty, so no matter what, I couldn't refuse.

"Thanks, honey, for understanding... When the kid gets better, I'll get you a gift, a secret..." Betty's eyes shimmered with a touch of emotion and relief when she heard my agreement. She hugged my arm and swayed as she spoke, and at the end, she whispered something in my ear that made my imagination run wild. What kind of gift could it be?

"Then I'll make sure you're asleep before I go over..." Betty still clung to my arm, leaning gently against my shoulder. "Suit yourself..." I pretended to be magnanimous, but honestly, I didn't want Betty to go. After all, Betty is my only one, and I don't want to share her with anyone, including our adopted son... If it weren't for Laura's dying wish, I really wouldn't have wanted to adopt a boy.

I tried to control my sleepiness, hoping that if Betty accidentally fell asleep next to me, she wouldn't have to go over tonight. But I was just too tired, and before I knew it, I had drifted off to sleep with Betty still holding my arm, leaning by my side...

I don't know how long I slept, perhaps because I had been woken up by Michael in the middle of the night for the past few nights, which had set my biological clock to wake up at that time.

Half-asleep, I turned over and reached out to touch my favorite thing while sleeping—Betty's breast, but my hand found nothing.

My pajamas suddenly felt all wrong; Betty was no longer in my bedroom.

No need to guess, Betty must have gone to Michael's bedroom. I lay back down, trying to fall asleep again, but I just couldn't. I couldn't help but worry—could Betty and Michael be having some special contact or relationship?

It's no wonder I was overthinking; I always felt Michael wasn't just a child. Betty treated him like a child, but in my heart, I saw him as a man.

And as a seasoned journalist, I've seen all sorts of things and have an uncanny professional sensitivity. My worries weren't unfounded, as there were many real cases to back them up.

The more I thought about it in bed, the more worried I became. Originally, Betty staying with Michael was supposed to help me sleep better, but now it was having the opposite effect. If I had known this would happen, I would have preferred to be accused of being petty by Betty rather than let her go.

My thoughts grew more fearful and sinister as I lay there. I stealthily got out of bed, not wearing slippers, my feet as silent as a cat's, making no sound as I walked.

I first pressed my ear against my bedroom door, listening for any sounds in the living room. Hearing nothing, I gently opened my door, and the vast living room lay before me.

I tiptoed towards Michael's bedroom, just like last night, his door was firmly shut. I held my breath and pressed my ear against the door, straining to catch any sound from inside. Turns out, I was really overthinking it—there was nothing but faint breathing sounds.

I had thought about opening the door like I did last night, but this time, I couldn't help but worry. Last night, if I had been caught opening Michael's door, I could have explained I was looking for Betty.

But this time was different. If Betty caught me now, what would I say?

She had already told me she'd be sleeping with Michael tonight. Wouldn't that be like admitting guilt without being accused?

Sighing, I continued to listen for a while longer before quietly retreating back to my room, closing my eyes and stewing in jealousy until dawn.

The new day broke, and after what felt like an eternity, I heard the sound of Michael's bedroom door opening.

I quickly shut my eyes and pretended to sleep, and sure enough, I soon heard the door to my room open.

I listened as footsteps approached the bed, and then Betty gently kissed my forehead before heading out to freshen up.

Not long after, my alarm clock went off, and I had no choice but to open my eyes and leave the room.

Betty was already in the kitchen preparing breakfast, greeting me with a gentle smile. Her expression was so natural; if she had done something wrong, surely there would be a tell in her eyes.

I went into the bathroom to freshen up, and catching sight of my bloodshot eyes in the mirror, I couldn't help but chuckle bitterly. Who had I angered to deserve this? At work later, I wondered if I was being too petty. I wasn't usually one to overthink things; maybe I just hadn't adjusted yet.

During a rare break at work, I started browsing the news online.

As journalists, we need to keep up with all the latest news, so checking out news stories is a must during our downtime. We used to read newspapers, but now in the digital age, any news can be previewed online.

While browsing, I stumbled upon a news article about "mother-son incest" in Singapore, where a mother and her high school son were involved in an incestuous relationship.

The affair came to light when neighbors found explicit selfies on the boy's phone and reported it to the authorities. The mother was detained, and the article mentioned that her husband was often away for work, and the boy was in his adolescence, among other things.

Curious, I searched for more news on "mother-son incest" and found many such stories, including some formal investigative reports.

Seeing this news stirred up my emotions again.

If a biological mother and son could engage in such acts, what about a lonely woman and a teenage boy? And considering how often I'm away on business trips, and might be away from home for long periods in the future, could I end up like those men in the stories, cuckolded by Betty and Michael?

I shut down my computer, and taking advantage of the slow workday, I decided to head home early. It was just past two in the afternoon, and Betty and Michael wouldn't be home from school yet.

I grabbed some equipment from my gear room and drove home.

When I got home, the place was dead quiet. I didn't waste any time and headed straight for my target—Michael's bedroom.

Setting up my gear was a breeze. I installed a pinhole camera, no bigger than a coin, right above the curtain.

Whether the curtains were drawn or open, this little spy was secured not to fall off, and it even came with night vision.

This wasn't your average run-of-the-mill camera that anyone could just snag online; this was the kind of high-tech gear we journalists use for undercover investigations, nearly on par with what the CIA might use.

I clipped the camera at the highest point on the curtain. Its coin size made it super stealthy, virtually undetectable unless you knew exactly what to look for.

After setting it up, I was extra careful to cover my tracks. I couldn't let Betty know I had been home during the day. As a seasoned journalist, I've got these snooping skills down pat.

The camera was just for a temporary sneak peek because I wasn't sure if there was anything fishy going on between Betty and Michael. If I caught something on camera, then I'd consider installing a more permanent hidden camera.

I drove back to the office. Being an old-timer in the news game, I wasn't too worried about the company thinking I was misusing their equipment for personal gain.

As long as I returned the gear by inventory time, all would be well. I admit, I'm a bit paranoid, but installing that camera was necessary.

Because Betty and Michael were sleeping in the same room, I couldn't keep an eye on them all night. If something sketchy did happen, I'd be clueless.

Even though I trust Betty, I can't say the same for Michael. The kid's in his teens, full of hormones and curiosity about sex.

Betty might be oblivious, but I can't be sure Michael wouldn't try something. Especially since Betty sleeps like a log—she wouldn't even know if something did happen.

And even if nothing serious goes down, there's still a chance Michael might pull some creepy moves on Betty. The last thing I want is for someone to take advantage of my beloved wife.

If I end up not catching anything on the camera, I won't be disappointed. At least it'll put my mind at ease, allowing me to focus on my work and life without this nagging worry.

I'll retrieve the camera tomorrow during the day. It only records video and doesn't transmit live images—after all, it's only as big as a nickel.

That night, when I got home, everything seemed normal. Michael's mood had improved significantly; he was smiling more and talking more than before, though he still seemed a bit distant with me compared to Betty.

But compared to the past, our relationship had definitely taken a turn for the better.

He still called Betty "teacher" and referred to me as "uncle."

Betty and I understood that adjusting to our relationship would take time, so we didn't rush him to change how he addressed us. We decided to wait until his mood had fully stabilized.

At the dinner table, I occasionally glanced at Michael and then at Betty, thinking about the mini camera I had installed in Michael's bedroom.

My feelings were mixed—perhaps I was overthinking things, scaring myself. I hoped I wouldn't discover anything tomorrow; otherwise, I really wouldn't know what to do.

After dinner, I lay in bed scrolling through my phone. Betty had to work late tonight because the school was having exams, and she was grading papers at the desk in our bedroom.

Looking at the thick stack of exam papers in front of her, I wondered how late she would be up. Maybe she'd be too busy to visit Michael's bedroom tonight?

The thought pleased me, though if she didn't go to Michael's room, it meant I had installed the camera for nothing. Yet, I felt no disappointment at that prospect.

I don't know when I fell asleep, but the routine I had just gotten into had me waking up again in the middle of the night. I had initially fallen asleep facing the desk, but when I woke up, the whole bedroom was dark.

I reached behind me, where Betty usually slept. But after groping around for a while, I felt nothing. Slowly, I turned over, only to find that once again, my side was empty...