**Broken Hearts and a Secret Spell**
I returned home from the parents’ evening at my son’s school in a quiet town near Manchester. The moment I stepped through the door, I headed straight to James’ room for a serious talk.
“Mum, give it a rest! I’m sick of your lectures!” James snapped.
“What do you mean, ‘give it a rest’? I’ve barely started! Mrs. Higgins is furious with you,” I said, fixing him with a stern look.
“I’ll act how I want, just like Dad! No wonder he’s got another woman—you probably nagged him to death, same as me!”
“What other woman? What are you talking about?” My voice trembled in shock.
I’d just come from the meeting where his teacher complained again—homework left undone, a careless attitude in class, backtalk. What had gotten into him? Lately, he’d been distant, absent-minded, shutting me out. I needed to speak with my husband. Maybe his father could reach him.
Then I spotted Richard’s car parked along the pavement. Had he come to pick me up? How thoughtful! I quickened my steps—then froze. Richard stepped out, holding flowers, but he wasn’t coming toward me. A redheaded woman in a tight dress took them, embracing him before they drove off together.
I stood there, frozen. Who was she? Tall, glamorous—nothing like my petite frame and dark bob. Richard had promised he’d be late at work, finalising a project with colleagues. Was *she* his colleague? In fifteen years of marriage, I’d never doubted him.
We’d married for love right after university. His parents—wealthy, proud—had gifted us a flat in central London. They adored me, doted on our daughter when she came along. Richard took over the family business when his father retired. It was hard at first, but he earned his team’s respect. We had everything: a countryside cottage, holidays abroad, laughter with friends. He’d often asked me to quit nursing, to focus on home, but I loved my work. Helping people was my calling.
And now? If he’d found another woman, he’d fallen out of love. Soon, he’d leave. Tears burned my cheeks. The pain was unbearable. What had I lacked? We weren’t just husband and wife—we were best friends, confidants. There’d never been any distance between us. How could he betray me? Richard had never even glanced at other women, handsome as he was.
At home, I confronted James again.
“Mum, seriously, stop lecturing me!” he shot back.
“Mrs. Higgins says your behaviour’s unacceptable!”
“I’ll do what I want, just like Dad! No wonder he’s seeing someone else—you drove him away!”
“Seeing *who*?” My voice cracked.
“I saw him at a café with some blonde. He didn’t even notice me. Go on, explain *that*.”
I collapsed onto the sofa, burying my face in my hands. The tears wouldn’t stop.
“Mum, don’t cry…” James faltered, always softhearted toward me.
“After everything we built… How could he?”
“Stuff happens. I love Dad, but if he’s treating you like this, let him go. We’ll manage. I’m thirteen—I’m not a kid. But… it’s still rubbish.”
He handed me a tissue. I wiped my eyes and pulled him close.
“I’ll talk to him. He owes me honesty.”
Richard came home hours later, looking weary.
“Emily, I ate with colleagues. Shower, then bed. Exhausted.”
“Richard, I saw you. The flowers, the woman. I was walking back from school—”
He went pale. “You saw? Fine. I’ve been seeing my new assistant, Caroline. I don’t know how it happened.”
“And now? Are you leaving?”
“I don’t *want* to… but I can’t stay away from her. I love you, but this feels… like a spell. She invited me over to help with paperwork, introduced me to her mum. I couldn’t say no. Then… I fell for her. We used our cottage. I’m sorry.”
“*Our* cottage? How *could* you?” My chest ached.
“I’ll move out. I can’t pretend. I’ll support James, always. Keep the flat—I’ll take the car and the cottage.”
“You’ve already decided? She’ll toss you aside once she’s bored!”
The next day, Richard packed his things while we were out. He left James a note. Seeing his empty wardrobe shattered me. I’d loved him completely. Money never mattered—family did. If he wanted a divorce, fine. James and I would survive.
His mother called in tears.
“Emily, Richard told us. How? Everything was perfect! A midlife crisis? You’re such a good wife—”
“Margaret, I’m shattered. James won’t speak to him.”
“Oh, love… We’re here. Always.”
Two weeks later, Richard returned for more belongings.
“Em… Can I grab a few things?”
“Take what you need.” He looked awful—gaunt, drained.
“James won’t answer my calls.”
“Maybe he’ll come around. You look terrible. Is she wearing you out?”
“Something’s wrong. No energy, no drive. Caroline irritates me, but I can’t leave.”
I confided in my colleague Lucy, a close friend from the hospital.
“Emily, something’s off. My neighbour knows about these things. Come with me?”
“I’m a nurse, Lucy. I don’t believe in this.”
“Just humour me. Bring his photo.”
That evening, we visited Lucy’s neighbour, Vera—a plain woman in a dressing gown, nothing like a “fortune-teller.” She lit a candle, studied Richard’s photo, then closed her eyes. I nearly laughed—until she spoke.
“He didn’t leave willingly. He loves you.”
I scoffed. “Loves me? Then why’s he with *her*?”
“Don’t mock. He’s under a spell—through food. Her mother’s behind it. They want his money. Without it, he’d never leave you.”
“A *spell*? He’s a grown man!”
“That girl’s mother practices dark things. He’s suffering—first euphoria, then exhaustion. It’ll get worse. Karma will find them, but too late.”
Vera didn’t ask for payment, just sincerity.
“What do I do?”
“Bring him home. Pray at church—I’ll handle the rest.”
I agreed, doubting but desperate. Richard wasn’t answering calls. I had to go to the cottage.
The taxi stopped at the gate. Memories flooded me—barbecues, laughter, dancing. Now, I knocked like a stranger. The door opened.
“Emily?” Caroline’s smile faltered.
“I need Richard.”
“He’s resting.”
“*Now*.”
Inside, Richard lay curled up, pale and unshaven.
“Richard, are you ill?”
“Em? What’s wrong?”
“James is in trouble. You didn’t answer—I came myself.”
“What happened?” He sat up, grabbing his jacket.
“Can you drive? You look awful.”
“I’ll manage. Wait outside.”
Caroline blocked the door.
“Where’s he going?”
“Home. To his family. You never should’ve done this.”
“Done *what*?” Her voice shook.
“You know. Stop it before karma bites back.”
“Jealous, are you? He chose *me*!”
“I never said anything about a *spell*.”
“Take him, then! Useless anyway! We could’ve had a penthouse!”
Richard emerged, his face dark with rage.
“So *that’s* what I was? A paycheck? Get out!”
Caroline stormed off. We locked up and drove away.
“Emily, I don’t deserve—”
“They enchanted you. I don’t believe in magic, but… I forgive you.”
He wept like a child. I stroked his hair, wondering how we’d gotten here.
Two weeks later, Richard was recovering. I’d prayed at church. Vera had worked her quiet magic.
“I *told* you!” Lucy beamed.
“Maybe miracles exist,” I murmured.
Richard and I grew closer than before. James smiled again, his parents reunited. Caroline vanished, resigning quietly. Whether karma found her, I don’t know. But our family had peace once more.
