Broken Hearts and a Hidden Spell
I returned from a parent-teacher meeting in a quiet town near Manchester, my mind still buzzing with the teacher’s complaints. Stepping inside, I marched straight to my son’s room, ready to lecture him.
“Mum, enough already! I’m sick of your nagging!” Tom snapped, cutting me off before I could even start.
“Enough? I’ve barely begun! Mrs. Higgins is furious with you,” I said, fixing him with a stern look.
“I’ll behave how I want, just like Dad! No wonder he’s got another woman—you probably drove him mad, just like you’re doing to me!” he shot back.
“Another woman? What are you talking about?” My voice trembled, my heartbeat loud in my ears.
The meeting had been exhausting—another round of complaints about Tom’s laziness, rudeness, and lack of focus. What was happening to him? He’d become distant, distracted, refusing to open up. I needed to speak with my husband, Simon. Maybe he could get through to him.
Then I spotted Simon’s car parked by the pavement. Had he come to pick me up? How thoughtful! I quickened my pace, only to freeze when he stepped out—holding a bouquet of roses. But they weren’t for me. A stranger, tall and striking with auburn hair and a fitted dress, embraced him before they drove off together.
My legs turned to lead. Who was she? Simon had said he’d be working late, discussing a new project. Had he been lying? In fifteen years of marriage, I’d never doubted him.
We’d married for love right after university. His parents, well-off, had gifted us a flat in central Manchester. They adored me—and later, our daughter. Simon took over his father’s business when he retired, thriving despite the pressure. We had it all—a country cottage, holidays abroad, a comfortable life. He’d asked me to quit nursing, but I loved my job, loved helping people.
And now? If he’d found someone else, he’d fallen out of love. Soon, he’d leave. Tears burned my cheeks. How could he? We’d been more than spouses—we were friends, confidants. He’d never even glanced at other women before.
Back home, I confronted Tom.
“Mum, stop! I can’t take more lectures!”
“Mrs. Higgins says you’re completely out of control!”
“I do what I want, like Dad! No wonder he’s got some other woman—you suffocate him like you suffocate me!”
“What woman?” My voice cracked.
“I saw him in a café with some stunner. Walked right past me. He didn’t even notice. What do you say to that?”
I collapsed onto the sofa, covering my face as sobs wracked my body.
“Mum… don’t cry,” Tom whispered, suddenly unsure.
“That’s it, then. We built a life, loved each other, and now he’s gone.”
“He’s still my dad. I love him. But if he’s treating you like this, maybe he should leave. We’ll manage. I’m thirteen—I’m not a kid.” His voice wavered, betraying his hurt.
He handed me a tissue. I wiped my tears and pulled him close.
“I’ll talk to him. He owes me honesty.”
Simon returned hours later, shoulders slumped.
“Sarah, I ate with colleagues. Going to shower and sleep. Exhausted.”
“Simon, I saw you. You gave her flowers. I was walking home from school.”
His face drained of colour.
“You saw? Yes… I’ve been seeing my new assistant, Gemma. I don’t know how it happened.”
“What now? Leaving us?”
“I don’t want to… but I’m drawn to her like a magnet. I love you, but it’s like an obsession. She invited me over to help with paperwork, introduced me to her mum. Then… I fell for her. We met at our cottage. I’m sorry.”
“Our cottage? How could you?” My chest tightened, each breath a struggle.
“Forgive me. Divorce is best. I can’t pretend nothing happened. I’ll still support you and Tom. You keep the flat; I’ll take the car and cottage.”
“Already decided? She’ll toss you aside once she’s bored. Think with your head!”
The next day, Simon packed his things and left while we were out, leaving Tom a feeble excuse scrawled on paper. As I stared at the empty wardrobe, my heart shattered. I’d loved him completely—money never mattered, only family. Divorce? Fine. Tom and I would survive.
My mother-in-law called in tears.
“Sarah, Simon told me everything. How? Everything was perfect! A midlife crisis? That girl—what does she want?”
“Margaret, I’m in shock too. Tom won’t speak to him.”
“Oh, what a mess. Stay strong, love. We’re here for you.”
“Thank you. We love you too.”
Two weeks later, Simon returned for more belongings.
“Sarah, hi. Just grabbing a few things.”
“Take what you need.” He looked awful—gaunt, pale, ill.
“Tom won’t answer my calls. I get it… maybe with time—”
“Maybe. You look terrible. Gemma draining you dry?”
“Something’s wrong. Weak, apathetic. She irritates me, but I can’t leave.”
I confided in Emily, my colleague and closest friend at the hospital.
“Sarah, this isn’t right. My neighbour knows about these things. Let’s see her.”
“I don’t believe in that rubbish. I’m a nurse!”
“Just humour me. Bring Simon’s photo, just in case.”
That evening, we visited Doris, a no-nonsense woman in a dressing gown who took Simon’s photo, lit a candle, and closed her eyes. I stifled a laugh—this was absurd.
“He didn’t leave willingly. He loves you,” Doris said.
“Loves me? Then why’s he with her?”
“Laugh if you will. He’s been hexed—through food. Her mother’s work. They want his money, not him. Without the spell, he’d never have left.”
“A spell? He’s a grown man!”
“That girl’s mum’s a witch. It’s the money they’re after. He’s suffering—that’s how hexes go. First euphoria, then weakness. Could get worse. Karma will catch them, but not yet.”
Doris didn’t ask for payment, seemed sincere.
“What do I do?”
“Bring him home. Keep him away. I’ll give you a prayer—say it in church. Leave the photo. In a week, he’ll improve.”
I sighed, agreeing. What if it was true?
Simon wasn’t answering calls, so I took a taxi to the cottage—where we’d once been happy, grilling burgers, laughing under the stars. Now, I knocked like a stranger.
Gemma answered, surprise flashing across her face.
“Sarah? Didn’t expect you.”
“I need Simon.”
“He’s resting.”
“Now.”
Inside, Simon lay curled up, pale and unshaven.
“Simon, are you ill?”
“Sarah? What’s wrong?”
“Tom’s in trouble. You weren’t answering.”
“Tom? What happened?” He staggered up, grabbing his jacket.
“Can you drive? You look dreadful.”
“I’ll manage. Let’s go.”
Gemma blocked the door.
“Where’s he going?”
“Home. To his family. You know what you’ve done.”
“What are you on about?”
“You understood. Stop this, or it’ll come back on you. Aren’t you afraid?”
“You’re just jealous he’s with me—young, pretty! No spell!”
“I never mentioned a spell… caught out.”
“Take him, then! Useless now! We could’ve had a penthouse, but no—stuck in this dump!”
Simon glared.
“So that’s it? My money?” His face darkened. “Get out!”
She stormed off. We locked up and left.
“Sarah, I don’t know what to say…”
“They hexed you. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it fits. I forgive you. It wasn’t your fault.”
He broke down sobbing. I stroked his hair, wondering how we’d gotten here.
Two weeks later, after prayers and Doris’s work, Simon was recovering, his spark returning.
“Told you!” Emily grinned.
“Maybe miracles exist,” I admitted.
Simon and I grew closer than ever. Tom was overjoyed. Gemma vanished, quitting her job. Whether karma found her, I don’t know—but our family found peace again.
