After her shower, Betty returned to her bedroom, locking the door behind her just as she had the night before.
She lay quietly on her bed, while on the other side, Michael was left to himself, peeling off the sticky condom.
He carelessly wiped himself down with some tissue.
Both mother and son turned off their lights and lay in their separate rooms, the night unfolding much like their second encounter, except this time, instead of a slap, Betty delivered a harsh kick to Michael.
Betty despised Michael, but perhaps she loathed herself even more, for beneath him, she had surrendered to pleasure before climaxing, a pleasure she hadn’t reached even with her husband, and she was painfully aware of it.
Her body, though hers, reacted in ways her mind couldn’t control; Michael’s repeated transgressions not only crossed her boundaries but also unlocked hidden corners of her heart and body, like opening Pandora’s box that Betty could no longer close.
Her anger was palpable, but perhaps it was overshadowed by a fear of the unknown, a premonition stirring within her.
Sitting on the bed, I felt a sense of relief wash over me; this was an incomplete act of love, yet in a way, it was complete—Betty had reached her climax, and Michael was far from his.
Though the future content of the video remained unknown, the current situation eased my mind considerably, despite Betty’s brief descent into carnal oblivion, she had made the choice I most hoped to see upon regaining her senses.
My appetite somewhat returned, and I picked up the meal prepared by the hotel, now cold, but necessary for sustaining myself to continue uncovering the truth, though the flavors were lost to me at that moment.
As I ate, I adjusted the video’s timeline to the morning, where Betty, as usual, got up to cook, and Michael obediently woke up, his routine mirroring the previous day’s, only now Betty was colder, and Michael more subdued, with no change in Betty’s expression.
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Betty went about her duties, and Michael went to school as usual, returning home to a routine of dinner and homework, with Betty speaking minimally, limiting her words to essential daily phrases.
At night, Betty would typically help Michael with his homework, but after finishing, she would silently return to her bedroom, not staying a minute longer in Michael’s room.
Each time, Michael watched Betty’s retreating figure with disappointment, powerless to change anything.
Betty was truly disappointed and decided to sever all ties with Michael, no matter what he did, whether he studied hard or skipped school altogether.
Each time after tutoring Michael, Betty would lock her bedroom door from the inside, but when alone, she often appeared deeply sad, showing a hint of reluctance and sometimes even lying on her bed lost in thought, her eyes flickering with memories.
On the other side, Michael’s mood worsened day by day, but he continued to attend school, studying hard, fantasizing about the day Betty would forgive him and take him back into her arms, though he wondered if that day would ever come.
This routine continued for a week; Betty would immediately lock herself in her room after tutoring Michael, barely speaking to him.
Each time Betty returned to her room, a trace of reluctance appeared on her face, but after much internal conflict, determination would take over.
Michael’s well-behaved demeanor throughout the week, however, did not bring about a change of heart in Betty. Michael grew increasingly despondent, his concentration waning, often distracted, which inevitably led to a decline in his academic performance.
One day after school, Betty’s expression was colder than ever, and Michael followed her inside with a gloomy face.
Instead of cooking immediately, Betty sat on the sofa, her chest heaving rapidly, clearly furious. She pulled out a report card from her bag, and it was obvious that Michael’s grades had slipped again.
With a slap, Betty threw the report card onto the coffee table but didn’t speak to Michael, continuing to seethe in silence.
Michael stood beside Betty, his face showing distress and fear, but his eyes flickered with a glimmer of hope and expectation. Last time, a drop in grades had brought Betty back to him; could it work again?
"Michael, your grades are your own responsibility. I’ve done what I needed to do, and I’ve done it well. I have no regrets. The rest is up to you. Also, I don’t know if this drop in grades is genuine or if you’re doing it on purpose, but let me advise you to give up that hope."
" I was wrong before, I shouldn’t have led you down that path. It’s not too late to mend, so don’t harbor any illusions and focus on what you need to do..." After a long pause, Betty finally spoke these words to Michael, then stood up and went to the kitchen to start preparing dinner.
Michael stood there, stunned and utterly dumbfounded by Betty’s harsh words, which seemed designed to drive him to despair.
As a young man, Michael almost cried, tears welling up in his eyes, but he held them back, his lips trembling. Betty’s words felt like a knife plunging deep into his heart.
Michael managed to hold back his tears, tilting his head back to let them retreat into his eyes.
Although Betty had moved to the kitchen, she kept an eye on Michael’s silhouette from the corner of her eye, fully aware of his trembling body and the way he held his head up, guessing his heart was breaking.
A trace of pity flashed in Betty’s eyes, mixed with worry, wondering if she had been too harsh, if she might have damaged Michael irreparably. Her nights were filled with concern for Michael, her love for him unchanged, but she believed that this painful step was necessary to end their inappropriate relationship and return to a normal mother-son dynamic.
After standing still for a while, Michael managed to compose himself and silently returned to his room. After changing his clothes, he took out his homework, but found himself unable to write. Eventually, he locked his door from the inside, returned to his desk, and finally let the tears flow freely, still just a child at heart.
When Michael locked his door, Betty, just finishing dinner, heard the click from the hallway outside his room.
Hearing the sound of the lock, a look of panic crossed Betty’s face. She quickly set the food on the table and approached Michael’s door. She thought about trying the doorknob to see if she had heard right, if Michael really had locked his door, but she refrained.
"Time for dinner..." Instead of trying the handle, Betty knocked gently on Michael’s door and spoke softly.
After saying this, she went back to get the utensils, while on the other side of the door, Michael sat at his desk crying. Despite my anger and resentment towards Michael for his actions towards Betty, his crying still tugged at my heartstrings.
Hearing Betty’s voice, Michael wiped the tears from his face, which had already stained his homework. In a rush, he tried to clean the pages with his sleeve, only to smear his previous work.
Michael sighed deeply, his face marked with sadness and a hint of despair.