Day seven's call with Betty set off alarm bells for me. Betty isn't exactly an Oscar-winning actress, so her off vibe definitely meant something was up. Without real-time surveillance at home, I couldn't see what was happening while I was away, and I couldn't probe too deeply without making Betty suspicious.
My mind started racing with all sorts of wild thoughts. I found myself getting up to smoke occasionally and just lying in bed staring at the ceiling. That night, I couldn't sleep a wink.
The next day, I hitched a ride back with the company's camera van without telling Betty I was coming home early. I had told her I'd be away for two weeks. When I got home in the afternoon, the first thing I did was check the cameras I had installed before leaving. Thankfully, they were all running smoothly and hadn't been tampered with, which was a huge relief.
After retrieving the cameras, I glanced at the wall clock. Betty and Michael would be home in less than two hours. There was a ton of footage from the past few days, and I didn't have time to review it just yet.
I stashed all the cameras away and started inspecting the room, looking for I don't know what. I even checked the trash cans to see if there was anything amiss. Everything seemed normal, and the trash had been taken out that morning. Maybe I was just being paranoid?
It looked like I'd have to wait to watch the video playback to find any answers. After tidying up any traces of my investigation, I got busy in the kitchen. I had brought back a bunch of local specialties from the city I visited—they were delicious, and I thought Betty would enjoy them too.
With half an hour to go before Betty and Michael got out of school, I had all the dishes laid out on the table. Looking at the feast I'd prepared, I couldn't help feeling a bit proud of my culinary skills.
Glancing at the clock, I had just enough time to pick up Betty and Michael. They usually took the bus home since I was the only one who drove the car at home, and Betty hadn't gotten around to getting her driver's license. So, when I wasn't home, the car just sat in the parking lot.
After setting everything up, I dashed downstairs, drove to the school, and parked right outside. I didn't tell Betty; I wanted to surprise her. It was only a fifteen-minute drive from our house to the school. I sat in the car, listening to music, my car clearly visible right at the school's entrance. Betty would see it the moment she stepped out.
As the school emptied, I kept my eyes glued to the entrance. If Betty didn't see me and headed for the bus stop, my trip would have been for nothing. But after ten minutes, the crowd thinned, and I hadn't seen Betty or Michael at all.
That's when those dark thoughts started creeping back in. I admit, sometimes my thoughts can be pretty twisted, and I get jealous easily—jealous of the time Betty spends with Michael. To others, I might seem petty, but it's a common feeling among guys like me—guys who are physically impaired and have stunningly attractive wives.
If a guy's got some issues in the bedroom department, and his wife is a total knockout with a high drive, you bet he's gonna be sweating bullets all day, suspecting every little move she makes. In severe cases, this kind of paranoia can drive a man nuts, leading to a heavy dose of suspicion that might just end up pushing his wife away for good.
And here I am, feeling like I'm not too far off from that kind of breakdown myself. At the end of the day, it's all about my own physical shortcomings. Who else to blame when you're shooting blanks, right? Just a pretty face with no game.
As I'm lost in these thoughts, another ten minutes tick by. It's been over twenty minutes since school let out. Even if Betty and the kids took the bus, they should be home by now.
I didn't call Betty's cell. Instead, I tried the landline at home, but no answer till the phone just gave up and hung itself up. That means Betty and Michael aren't home yet.
I pocketed my cell and made sure my car was locked up tight. I picked up the pace, heading towards the building where Betty and Michael should be.
I kept my eyes peeled as I walked, hoping to catch a glimpse of Betty and Michael, but no luck even as I entered the building. It was getting dark early, not even 5 PM and it was already pitch black.
Only a few lights were still on in the building. I first checked Betty and Michael's classroom, but it was empty, lights off, door locked.
There was one last place to check – Betty's office. If they weren't there, I'd have to cave and call her cell.
My heart was pounding as I approached her office. Most of the other offices were empty; everyone had bolted the minute they could. From a distance, I could see the light in Betty's office was on – the door had a small window at the top, way too high to peek through, about six and a half feet off the ground.
I tiptoed over like some kind of spy on a mission, silent as a cat. When I reached the office door, I pressed my ear against it, straining to hear anything. But maybe the soundproofing was just too good, or the voices inside were too low – I couldn't make out anything definitive that it was Betty's voice.
I was dying to knock, but my paranoid side didn't want to miss catching something fishy. Knocking might just ruin any chance of catching them red-handed.
Pacing outside, desperate for a new plan, I spotted a desk not far from Betty's office, probably left there temporarily due to damage.
Driven by a mix of curiosity and desperation, I quietly moved the desk to her office door. I didn't make a sound. I climbed onto the desk very carefully, praying nobody would open the door because I'd have no chance to escape – I was right in front of it, taking a huge gamble.
Standing on the desk, I still couldn't see inside – I had to stand on my tiptoes. Finally, I got a good look inside, but what I saw nearly knocked me off my perch.