Nothing
She tries to defy something; something so tender and pure, like sweet love in the realm of a dream. All of these heavenly pleasures couldn't be real. She should've known from the start that it was all too good to be true. That every touch of soft skin that prickled her senses, and every sly encounter and massage and loving gesture…all fabrications. Wicked and wild and not what she came here for.
What does it take to be cunning? She tries to picture someone with as much wit as her husband, deceiving her the same way he did. She can't go back to that. Maybe she can't go back to anything.
She's afraid of nothingness. She's paralyzed by the fear of oblivion; by the fear of one day, coming home to an empty coven or a tattered family, and being so underestimated and rejected by the people around her. She fell behind them, but always beat them to the void.
That is what her remedy is; nothing. Nothing she will ever want.