All Chapters of Spellbound by Obsession: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

152 Chapters

Chapter 21 — The Relief That Condemns (Dorian)

Dinner at our friends’ house was a nightmare.Conversations about work, about politics, about football. I smiled at the right moments, drank more wine than I should have, tried to seem normal.And then Sarah dropped the bomb.“We’re trying to have a baby!”Our friends applauded. Sarah’s girlfriends hugged her. Someone asked to see pictures of what the “baby Caine” would look like.I smiled. I toasted. I agreed.Inside, I was drowning.She didn’t ask if I wanted to go public. She didn’t ask if I was ready. She simply decided.We drove home in silence. Sarah was beaming, planning names, nursery colors, schools.I just drove, hands steady on the wheel, eyes fixed on the road.“Are you happy?” she asked, when we parked in the garage.“Of course,” I lied. “Very happy.”***Sarah got pregnant in the third month of trying. I knew before she did—I saw the pharmacy pregnancy test hidden at the bottom of her drawer, two pink lines.She confirmed it the next day, with tears in her eyes and an ul

Chapter 22 — The Small Gestures (Clara)

The second year in Newburyport brought a change I didn’t dare dream of.Marge, the café owner, had a sister who managed a restaurant downtown—The Pier, an elegant place with white tablecloths and uniformed servers. She needed an experienced waitress and Marge spoke about me.“Clara is good, dedicated, never misses a day. And she needs the money.”I got the job.The salary was double what I earned at the café. The tips were generous. For the first time since I arrived in Newburyport, I could breathe.I spent weeks looking for a better place to live. Nothing luxurious—it wasn’t my style and didn’t fit my budget. But something clean, safe, with windows that let the sun in.I found a two-bedroom apartment on the second floor of an old building, a few blocks from the restaurant. The kitchen was small but functional. The living room had a fireplace I would never use. Aggy’s bedroom had light yellow walls and a window overlooking a tree.“It’s yours,” the realtor, a nice woman named Beatrice

Chapter 23 — What Was Not Forgotten (Clara)

It wasn’t easy raising Aggy. I didn’t know how to love properly. The spell had consumed part of my ability to feel. During the first months, I looked at myself in the mirror and wondered if I was capable of giving Aggy what she needed.But love didn’t come in a grand gesture, an epiphany, a declaration.It came in the small moments.The first time Aggy held my finger with all the strength of her tiny hand.In the sound of her breathing while she slept, a gentle rhythm that calmed me after nights of insomnia.In the way she said “mama” when I picked her up from daycare, running toward me with open arms.The first time she shared a cookie with me, offering me the less-bitten half.I learned to give love in small gestures—preparing the bottle at the right temperature, wrapping her in a blanket on cold nights, singing off-key lullabies because it was all I knew.And I learned to receive love the same way—in a tight hug before bed, in a smacking kiss on the cheek, in a look of absolute tru

Chapter 24 — The Guardian of the Home (Sarah)

The second miscarriage broke me in a way the first one couldn’t.It wasn’t just the loss of the baby—it was the loss of the illusion. The certainty that my body was incapable of generating life. The realization that I would never give Dorian the child he didn’t even know he wanted.In the hospital, while the doctors removed what remained of my third failed pregnancy, I made a decision.Never again.Never again would I try. Never again would I subject myself to this. Never again would I put my body and mind through this torture.But I would also never let anyone take Dorian from me again.***Sleepless nights led me to research. First, articles about infidelity, about marriage recovery, about overcoming the past. Then, more obscure websites, anonymous forums where women talked about love spells, reconciliation rituals, witchcraft.It was on one of these nocturnal excursions that I found her name.Lara.A twenty-year-old girl, dark hair, eyes that seemed to suck in the light. The same g

Chapter 25 — You Are Mine (Sarah)

Her name was Clara, according to her badge. Hair pulled back in a messy bun, black and white uniform, dark circles from working too much and sleeping too little.There was no heavy makeup. No black clothes. No aura of rebellion that emanated from the girl in the video.But there was something in her eyes. In the way she moved. In the way she lowered her gaze when talking to Dorian.I recognized her instantly.Lara.She was there, right in front of me, serving my table as if nothing had happened. As if she hadn’t destroyed my marriage. As if she hadn’t bewitched my husband.Blood boiled in my veins. But I smiled.“Good evening,” I said, my voice sweet as honey. “We’re passing through the city. Celebrating our marriage.”She blinked, confused.“Congratulations.”“Thank you.” I squeezed Dorian’s hand on the table, feeling him be startled by the gesture, but reciprocate. “How many years married, love? Fifteen?”“Fifteen,” he confirmed, hesitant.Clara took our order with steady hands, but

Chapter 26 — The Dream That Won’t Fade (Dorian)

The dream came like a tide I couldn’t contain.Black hair. Long, loose, falling over pale shoulders like a veil of shadows. Dark eyes that sucked in the light around them and transformed it into their own brilliance.And jasmine. The scent was there, impregnated in the air of the dream, so real that I could almost touch it.She stood before me, arms crossed over her chest, hands gripping her own shoulders as if she were cold. She didn’t look directly at me—her eyes wandered around the scenery around us, a blur of colors and shapes I couldn’t distinguish.Only she was clear.“You shouldn’t be here,” she said, her voice a whisper that echoed strangely.“Why?” I asked, taking a step forward.She retreated. A small step, almost imperceptible, but I saw it.“Because you shouldn’t.”The answer was vague, evasive. She bit her lower lip, a nervous gesture that seemed familiar to me, although I swore I’d never seen her before.“You seem familiar to me,” I said, studying her face, trying to dec

Chapter 27 — The Name That Shouldn’t Exist (Dorian)

In the afternoon, we rented a small sailboat. The wind was favorable, the sea calm, the sky blue. Sarah brought champagne, fruit, a picnic basket, and a camera.We sailed for hours, following the coast, watching seagulls and seals. Sarah sat at the bow, her hair in the wind, and asked me to photograph her.I photographed. I smiled. I agreed. But my mind was somewhere else.In the dream. In the woman with black hair. In the way her face fit perfectly in my hand.Who are you?When the sun slowly sank below the horizon, Sarah snuggled against me, her body pressed to mine, and sighed.“It’s so beautiful,” she said.“It is,” I agreed, but I wasn’t looking at the sky.I was looking at the coast, at the lights of the city beginning to flicker on, at the possibility that somewhere there, the woman from my dream was living her life.Does she dream of me too?When we returned to the pier, we returned the boat and walked back to the inn. Sarah was radiant, talking about the day, about the photos

Chapter 28 — The Name That Shouldn’t Be Spoken (Sarah)

Dinner at the hotel was silent.I tried. God knew I tried. I talked about the menu, about the decoration, about plans for the next day. Dorian responded with monosyllables, his eyes fixed on his plate, his mind clearly somewhere else.On someone else.The thought gnawed at my insides like acid.“The salmon is delicious,” I commented, trying to start a conversation.“It is.”“Tomorrow we could visit that lighthouse the waitress recommended.”He looked up at me, and there was something there—a gleam, a spark—that made me instantly regret mentioning her.“We could,” he said, and went back to eating.We finished the meal in silence. We went upstairs in silence. We brushed our teeth in silence.In the bedroom, the tension was a third element between us, invisible but suffocating.Dorian sat on the bed, his head down, his hands resting on his knees. I sat beside him, my shoulder brushing his.“Sarah…” he began, but I didn’t let him finish.I kissed him.It wasn’t a passionate kiss, it wasn’

Chapter 29 — The Meeting in Darkness (Clara)

The apartment smelled of vanilla candles and a child’s sleep. I had just put Aggy to bed, her tiny body already wrapped in the unicorn blanket, her black hair spread across the pillow like a fan of dark silk.“Good night, my love,” I whispered, kissing her forehead.She was already sleeping.The doorbell rang when I was about to take a shower. The clock read almost midnight. I was surprised—I wasn’t expecting visitors, had no one to expect.I looked through the peephole and the floor disappeared beneath my feet.Dorian.He was there, on the other side of the door, his shirt poorly buttoned, his hair disheveled, his green eyes burning like matches in the dimness of the hallway.No. This can’t be happening. Not now. Not like this.He knocked on the door. Not a polite knock, but heavy, urgent sounds that echoed through the hallway of the old building.“Clara,” his voice, even muffled by the wood, made my body tremble. “I know you’re in there. Open up.”I looked toward Aggy’s bedroom. She

Chapter 30 — The Beginning of the Rest (Dorian)

The bed was too small for three people.Our daughter slept between us, her tiny body taking up more space than seemed possible. Her black hair spread across the white pillow, her breathing soft and rhythmic, her lips parted in a silent yawn.Lara—Clara, now—was on the other side, her dark eyes fixed on me through the gloom.“You should go,” she whispered.“I’m not going.”“Dorian…”“No,” my hand found hers over the comforter, our fingers intertwining. “I’ve already lost too much time.”She sighed, but didn’t pull her hand away.“You can’t just show up like this, after three years, and decide you’re going to stay.”“Why not?”“Because things don’t work that way.”“Why not?” I insisted.She laughed, a low, tired sound.“You’re impossible.”“I know,” I squeezed her hand. “But I’m serious. Since I woke up in the hospital, I’ve tried to remember. I read reports, saw photos, went to therapy. Nothing worked. It was like they ripped out a piece of me and threw it away.”“It was the spell,” sh

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