**A Strange Encounter in the Woods**
If anyone had told Seraphina that she’d get lost in her own woods, she’d have laughed in their face. Every bump, every path, every tree and clearing had been familiar since childhood. She and the girls would gather mushrooms and berries, always finding their way home.
Now retired, Seraphina had gone into the woods one day to pick mushrooms. Her basket was nearly full when she glanced around, ready to head back to the village. The sky darkened with clouds—rain was coming. The trees loomed like a solid wall around her.
«Blimey, I’ve been here before,» she muttered, near tears. «Like some forest sprite’s leading me in circles.» She sank onto a fallen log, setting her basket down.
Then her head spun, the trees blurred, and she slid to the ground, unconscious. The next thing she knew, someone was shaking her shoulder. A familiar voice she hadn’t heard in ages—one she’d hoped never to hear again—pulled her back.
«Sim, Sim, it’s not your time yet, love,» the woman said.
Seraphina blinked. Hovering over her was Marigold from the next village over, two miles from where she lived. Once her closest friend, now a bitter enemy.
Seraphina couldn’t believe her eyes. But no—there she was. Marigold had stumbled upon her in the woods.
They’d been inseparable at school, sharing every secret. They’d gone dancing, swapped clothes—both pretty, but Marigold was sharper, always playing lads like fiddles. Seraphina was simpler, honest. She’d never deceive a friend, but Marigold? Petty lies came easy.
Everything might’ve stayed fine if they hadn’t both fallen for the same man—Zachary.
Handsome Zachary knew his worth, the village’s best accordion player, always surrounded by girls.
«Ah, if only I could love you all at once,» he’d laugh, pulling a gaggle of them close.
«You can’t, Zach,» Marigold would say. «You’ll have to pick one—for life.»
Marigold was striking—dark-eyed, raven-haired. Seraphina, fair with rosy cheeks and a thick blonde plait, had Zachary stealing glances. He liked her gentle blush, her open gaze. But he never noticed Marigold watching him, jealousy simmering.
One evening, Zachary approached Seraphina.
«Sim, fancy a walk? Down by the river?»
She smiled, hiding her racing heart. «Why not?»
They left the dance hall together. Behind them, Marigold burned with envy.
«Thought you were my friend, Sim,» she seethed silently. «But you’ve stolen him.»
Zachary held Seraphina’s hand, brimming with tenderness. He wanted to shout his happiness to the world. They courted, he doted, even proposed.
«Seraphina, expect my family soon. I’ll send them to yours.»
Blissfully, she believed him. She loved him, trusted him—and then they crossed a line.
Lost in happiness, she didn’t see Marigold’s fury. She waited for his family’s visit—but it never came. Worse, Zachary grew distant, cold. Then, without a word, he took up with Marigold.
Marigold cut Seraphina off. When she finally cornered Zachary, he snapped, «No. I’ve nothing to say.»
The cheerful lad was gone, replaced by a sullen stranger.
Soon after, Seraphina realized she was carrying his child. She wouldn’t tell him—not when he barely looked at her. But her mother noticed.
«Daughter, what’s happened?»
Through tears, Seraphina confessed.
Her mother frowned. «Pack your things. We’ll go to my sister Florence in the city. She’s a nurse—she’ll help.»
There, Florence arranged everything. Seraphina stayed, later meeting Stephen, a kind, quiet orphan. They married. He adored her, rushing home each day. But children never came. Stephen soothed her, «We’ve each other, love.»
Yet Seraphina lived by habit, joy long gone with Zachary.
Marigold married Zachary, floating on air at first. But happiness eluded them. He grew irritable, their fights constant. Marigold couldn’t carry a child—each attempt ended badly. After a decade, Zachary fell ill, wasted away, and died.
Villagers muttered, «Sucked the life from him, she did.»
Still beautiful, Marigold remained alone.
Years later, Seraphina returned to care for her ailing mother. Stephen, ever devoted, came willingly. After her mother passed, they stayed in the village.
Seraphina avoided Marigold—until the woods forced them together.
Marigold looked older now, her dark eyes faded.
«Why still angry, Sim?» she asked softly. «You nearly died here.»
Seraphina broke down, years of bitterness melting with her tears.
«Marigold… All these years, I imagined our meeting. The things I’d say. But life’s punished you enough.»
«Forgive me, Sim,» Marigold whispered. «I was young, jealous. I envied your joy with Zachary. I went to old Granny Edith—asked her to curse your happiness. And when he drank too much one night, I led him to my bed. My parents saw him there—he had no choice. But he never loved me. Only you.»
She paused. «Forgive me, Seraphina. I’ve carried this guilt forever. Zachary came to me in a dream—said, ‘Beg Seraphina’s forgiveness.’ But I was afraid… until today.»
A breeze stirred the trees; rain began to fall.
«What’s done is done,» Seraphina said. «But thank you—for not leaving me here.»
Marigold sighed. «Come, I’ll see you to the path.»
Moments later, they reached it.
«Goodness, it was right there!» Seraphina gasped. «How’d I miss it?»
Marigold hesitated. «Sim… do you forgive me?»
«I do. Go in peace.»
They parted ways.
The next day, Seraphina heard the news at the shop.
«Sim, Marigold passed last evening,» said Agnes.
Seraphina froze. «But I saw her yesterday!»
The women nodded.
Seraphina walked home, dazed.
«So God let us meet… so she could ask forgiveness.»
Once, she’d sworn she’d never forgive. But now? She only felt sorrow. Marigold could’ve lived so much longer.