17-year-old son slept with his mother, but you won’t believe what happened when his father arrived

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A 17-year-old son slept with his own mother every night, but when his father finds out about the betrayal on his wedding anniversary, he can’t help himself, and disaster happens.

The dawn was breaking with a serene chill when Albert, a 57-year-old KN security guard, ended his shift earlier than usual. It was his 21st wedding anniversary with his wife, Claire, and he had planned a surprise to start the day in a memorable way. Darkness still enveloped the city as it was still 5:30 in the morning when he made his way home, his heart filled with anticipation.

On the way, he stopped at a bakery where he picked out the breakfast items with care—croissants, his favorite orange cake, and freshly brewed coffee that promised to fill the kitchen with its inviting aroma. In addition, he couldn’t resist a bouquet of colorful flowers, knowing how much Claire loved waking up to the scent of freshness and life they brought.

Arriving home, he moved silently into the kitchen, placing each item on the tray with meticulous care. “She’ll be so surprised,” he thought, a smile breaking out on his face as he imagined his wife’s surprise and joy. It was almost 6:00, and he knew Claire wouldn’t expect to be woken up with breakfast in bed and flowers to celebrate their wedding anniversary.

Albert prepared everything with love, from the coffee, which began to spread its aroma, to the croissants and orange cake arranged harmoniously on the tray. The flowers, with their vibrant colors, added a final touch to the surprise. Every detail was designed to remember the happy mornings they had shared together over the years.

With the tray now ready, full of delicacies that promised to start the day in the best possible way, the security guard went upstairs, taking care not to make a sound and spoil the surprise. Excitement bubbled up inside him, a perfect counterpoint to the calmness of the sleeping house. “She’ll love it,” he whispered, his anticipation growing with every step he took.

Finally, in front of the bedroom door, Albert took a moment to adjust the tray, making sure everything was perfect. He checked his watch once more—it was only a few minutes before 6:00. It was time. With a final sigh of anticipation, he opened the door, ready to see Claire’s surprised and happy face when she woke up.

However, the scene his eyes encountered as he entered the room left him completely paralyzed. The expectation of a joyful surprise gave way to an immobilizing shock—a total disconnect between what he had imagined and the reality that now unfolded before him. What happened was that when Albert opened the door, the impact of the scene was like a punch in the stomach, freezing him in place.

His wife, wearing only a thin nightgown, and next to her, in a way he could never have imagined, was Carl, his 17-year-old son, wearing only underwear. They were both cuddled up in bed in a way that at first glance seemed unbelievable. The boy was sleeping peacefully, one arm around his mother in a protective gesture that was both innocent and deeply disturbing for Albert. The expression of serenity on his son’s face contrasted violently with the storm of emotions that was raging in his chest.

“What is going on?” he whispered, incredulous. That sight and the initial shock gave way to an avalanche of memories and suspicions that the security guard had been keeping to himself. This was because Claire had been distant and cold for the last few months. Sporadic fights that came out of nowhere and ended in prolonged silence happened frequently.

There were times when he caught her with marks on her body—hickeys and scratches—that she would always deny, attributing them to domestic accidents or saying she couldn’t remember how she got them. But the doubt always remained, a constant buzz in the background of their interactions. He thought his wife might be having an affair, but she hardly ever left the house, so how could she be meeting up with a lover? “Now it makes sense,” the man thought, realizing that she didn’t need to leave the house since her lover lived there with them. It was an absurd statement, but given what he was seeing, it was irrefutable.

Albert tried several times over the months to question his wife about what might be going on and how they could rekindle the flame of their love. But as she gave him nothing, he thought that by making a romantic gesture on their wedding anniversary, things might change. “Was she having an affair with our own son all this time?” The question, absurd in its essence, was now repeating itself in that father’s mind with devastating force. All this was processed in mere seconds until he came to his senses, and overcome by a mixture of anger, confusion, and despair, Albert couldn’t contain himself.

“What the hell is going on here?” The scream escaped his lips before he could think, and the tray he was carrying fell to the floor with a crash, scattering the breakfast he had so carefully prepared. The abrupt noise was enough to wake Claire and Carl, who jumped out of bed at the sudden invasion of their morning peace. The croissants were scattered across the cold floor, the orange cake was now a sweet spot between the shards of porcelain, and the coffee seeped like a dark shadow under the bedroom door.

The security guard stood motionless, a mixture of disbelief and fury distorting his normally calm features. “Dad, you’re early,” Carl’s voice, shaky and confused, broke the silence that followed. The boy, still trying to understand what was going on, saw his mother wake up, startled, with her heart beating fast and fear now evident in her eyes.

“Albert,” Claire whispered, her eyes wide.

The man, however, did not reply. The initial shock gave way to raging anger, a fire that seemed to consume all logic and reason. Without saying a word, he threw himself at his son, his hands trembling with hatred. “You bastard, how could you have the nerve to sleep with my wife, your own mother?” he shouted, burning with rage.

The fight that followed was like thunder in a clear sky, each blow carrying the storm of emotions that Albert was trying to process. “No, Dad, stop it!” Carl screamed, each word an effort against physical pain and emotional confusion. Claire ran to her son’s defense, her own hands trying to intercept her husband’s punches.

“Stop, Albert! It’s not what you think!” Her desperation was evident, but even so, even though his wife claimed that the accusation was unfounded, it only served to fuel the man’s fury at the fact that she was defending the boy. He pushed her away, his strength filled with anger that almost knocked her to the ground.

“I’m going to finish you off, you miserable boy!” he turned to his son, the threat being a sentence pronounced with frightening conviction.

“Dad, I didn’t do anything!” Carl tried to explain, but his words were drowned out by the slaps and punches, and every attempt to defend himself was cut off by his father’s rage. The scene was chaotic—shouting, crying, the pain of misunderstandings fueling a spiral of violence. Albert, blinded by rage, couldn’t see beyond his own interpretation of the situation.

It was then, in a moment of clarity forced by desperation, that Carl managed to muster all the breath he had left for one last attempt to reach his father. “Father, Mom’s sick!” These words, thrown into the air as a last resort, seemed to penetrate the fog of anger that enveloped the security guard. He stopped abruptly, his hands still suspended in the air, his gaze oscillating between fury and confusion.

The boy, panting, took advantage of his father’s hesitation to breathe. Every part of him trembled, not only from fear but also from the desperate effort to protect both his mother and the truth. At that moment, the atmosphere in the room changed dramatically. The silence that followed was thick with tension and expectation. Albert, still panting from the explosion of emotions, looked at his son, his expression now mixed with confusion and concern.

“What do you mean, she’s sick?” His question came out soft, his anger now giving way to growing concern. The truth was that he hadn’t realized how serious the situation was. After all, the life of a night security guard was solitary and exhausting, leaving little room for the details of everyday life at home.

Carl, seeing the change in his father’s look, took a deep breath, trying to calm down so that he could explain everything as clearly as possible. “Dad, over the last few months, Mom has been going through a very difficult time, and we didn’t know how to tell you.” Albert sat on the edge of the bed as the impact of his son’s words began to penetrate his consciousness. Claire, now calmer but visibly shaken, held her husband’s hand, seeking in him a support that had been lacking recently.

“There are nights when I wake up to Mom screaming,” the boy continued. “She scratches herself, hurts herself, sometimes she screams so much that it’s like she’s living in a terrible nightmare.” His eyes were full of tears, not just from fear of his father’s reaction but from the pain of seeing his mother suffer so much.

Claire, with her voice choked with emotion, tried to explain. “I’ve been having nightmares, Albert, nightmares so vivid that I feel trapped. I can’t control them, and I end up hurting myself.”

Albert looked from one to the other, trying to assimilate the information that seemed so far from the reality he knew. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?” His voice was a mixture of pain and regret.

“I’ve done a lot of research,” said Carl, trying to show his father that he had tried to find solutions, “and everything indicates that it could be a sleep disorder.” What had happened was that in the early hours of the morning, Claire had another nightmare and woke up screaming. In desperation

, Carl went to his mother’s room to help her. He had slept in his underwear because it was so hot during the night, and when he got up in a hurry, he didn’t even have time to put his pajamas on.

“I just wanted to calm Mom down, Dad, make her go back to sleep.” His explanation was a plea for understanding, a silent request for his father to see beyond his crazy suspicions.

Carl’s confession, full of sincerity and desperation to protect his mother, began to dismantle Albert’s last barriers of doubt. The image of his son and wife clinging to the bed in search of comfort against the demons of the night took on a new meaning, a context he hadn’t considered. They weren’t having an affair. In that instant of revelation, everything began to make sense—the strange behavior of his wife, Claire, recently, the moments of emotional distance, the physical signs that he didn’t know how to interpret correctly. Everything was connected to the problem he had just discovered.

“So the bruises and scratches were caused by herself during the night,” he thought quietly, feeling ashamed for attributing something that was the result of his wife’s desperation and terror of nightmares to something as terrible as his son and her having an affair. The weight of guilt fell on Albert like a slab. He felt a mixture of sadness and regret for not having noticed the suffering his wife was going through.

“I was the one who had to be here to protect your mother, not you, son. Forgive me for thinking the worst,” the man confessed, his voice laced with emotion. He now recognized the injustice of his accusations, the rashness of judging the situation without fully understanding it. Carl’s response was simple but meaningful—a strong hug that said more than words could express. They hugged as a gesture of forgiveness, of mutual understanding, a symbol of their family unity that seemed to have been forgotten in the confusion of recent times. Claire, with tears in her eyes, approached and joined in the hug, whispering apologies for all the suffering she had caused, even if it wasn’t her fault.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, the relief of sharing her burden mixed with the pain of seeing the people she loved hurt because of her. There, in that embrace, the family had a moment of real connection. They also had time to talk openly and put everything on the table. Albert now knew every detail of what was going on—every night of terror that Claire faced and how Carl became her protector. The pain of not being able to do much because of his job consumed him.

His wife had been sleeping alone every night for three years, and he felt responsible for not being there to protect her. The decision came naturally, almost as an inevitable conclusion to that emotionally charged conversation—they decided it was time to do whatever was necessary to help Claire overcome her demons. Together, they agreed to use their savings to pay for quality treatment for her. It was an ambitious plan, perhaps even risky considering the family’s financial situation, but what was at stake was much more valuable than any sum of money—it was her health, the peace of her family, the well-being of all of them. They were ready to face whatever lay ahead, united by the determination to get through this difficult phase.

Eventually, the emotional storm that had shaken the foundations of Albert’s family began to calm down. Forgiveness began to heal the wounds opened by the misunderstanding. After many conversations and shared moments, Carl managed to forgive his father. After all, although initially hurt by his father’s mistrust, he understood the origin of his fears and forgave his rashness. Love and understanding were stronger than any resentment that might have arisen from the confusion. The family, now more united and understanding, gradually began to restructure.

The nights once marked by fear and uncertainty became moments of tranquility and recovery as Claire, with the help of her treatment and the unconditional support of her husband and son, began to show clear signs of improvement. Her nightmares, which used to torment her so violently, became less and less frequent until, after a year of therapy and dedication, she managed to completely overcome her sleep disorder. The relief and joy that this achievement brought to their family was immeasurable. Claire, finally free of the demons that haunted her nights, was back to being the person she had always been—cheerful, loving, and a source of strength to everyone around her.

During this period, when his wife was fighting her battle against the disorder, Albert faced his own challenge—finding a job that would allow him to be more present at home, especially during the nights, to offer his wife the support and protection she deserved. After months of searching without success, he had a deep conversation with his company about his situation, and something extraordinary happened. Considering what an excellent employee he was, the company offered Albert the opportunity to change his shift to daytime.

The news was greeted with gratitude and relief, as now the man could finally be at home by 8:00 p.m., enjoying the company of his wife and son. Whenever he got home, there were moments of reunion and celebration for the three of them. Together, they rebuilt their routine, finding in the simplicity of everyday life the foundations for a happier life.

As time passed, the family’s life found a new rhythm, marked by laughter, family dinners, and quiet evenings. The darkness that once threatened to engulf them was replaced by a light of hope and renewal. Together, they learned that love and understanding can overcome any adversity.

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