Lola had met Mrs. Hill again, four times, after the last session. They had been making progress and had finally achieved their goal. When Lola advised the woman to speak to her husband, she expected the result to be successful. She set up another meeting for them, three days after the last. She had Ann send the details of the meeting to Mrs. Hill via email. When the woman arrived that day, she was looking better, but still unhappy. Lola figured that the talk with her husband did not go too well.

'He was not so keen on the idea. What am I going to do?' The woman had said, panicking. She had refused to drink anything and had been sweaty since she got seated.

'Calm down Mrs. Hill' muttered Lola 'How did it go exactly?' she asked

'I told him about how much I hate it here and.......and '

'And?'

'I told him that, we should go to America, and start over' Mrs. Hill voiced out, staring at her hands, resting on her thighs. Lola did not say anything for a while, which made the woman more anxious.

'You want to leave England?' Lola finally asked.

'That is the plan. To leave this miserable place, once and for all.'

'I think that is a little selfish Mrs. Hill. don't you think?'

'Selfish?' The woman was confused. Was that not what Lola wanted for her? Had it not been the plan?

'Yes, Mrs. Hill, selfish. You are married. You are no longer making decisions for yourself alone, but for yourself, your husband, and your future children. You hate London, not the whole of England. There are places here, with the same description as your hometown. What does your husband do for a living?' questioned Lola.

'He oversees his late uncle's contracting company' The woman answered.

'And the company happens to be here in London, right?' Mrs. Hill nodded

'So, in other words, you want him to leave everything behind, and move to America with you? is that not selfish then?' Lola said, making the woman gasp.

'I...I didn't think..........I didn't think about all this. Of course, he can't leave all of it. That is our source of income. That was why he refused. Oh my God.' She stuttered.

'Well now you have thought about it, and that is all that matters. I know a lot of places around London, with the same description as your hometown.'

'You are sure about that?' Mrs. Hill asked, unconvinced.

'One hundred percent. I will have Ann send you some places to check out. When you do pick a place, you should talk to your husband again. This time, he might like the idea.' Lola finalized, smiling at the woman.

Ann did send the places to Mrs. Hill, who carried out research, on all of them, and ended up picking a place that looked, and was described even better than her hometown. 'We both agreed on the Village of Carsley. We decided to purchase a cottage there.' She had told Lola, and told her about their plans, for the next session. Lola knew the place but had never been there before, so she could only rely on what Mrs. Hill told her about the village. The final session with Mrs. Hill had been very emotional. The woman was so thankful, and happy. She praised Lola and promised to invite her over to her place when it was ready. That was the last Lola heard from the woman. She had not gotten any more news from Mrs. Hill. She figured the woman would be busy with the packing and moving preparations. Lola was happy she had helped her, and that was another successful job done.

Lola had just gotten home from work on Friday. She was terribly tired and exhausted, from the day's work. She unlocked the front door, using the spare key, which was always kept under the flower pot in the front yard, by Penelope the house cleaner, after her duties every day. Penelope had been cleaning for the Lincolns for years now. She was hired to care for the house, even before the couple started living in it. She always had little to no work to do, as the house was always clean. It still felt like it had no occupants. Penelope finds it difficult, to understand how an amazing woman like Lola, landed herself in the type of marriage, that she was in. Whenever she works on weekends, Lola receives her with warmth and so much affection. Penelope's heart drops at the sight of the young woman, thinking, or eating alone. She pitied Lola and sometimes keeps her company if she had nothing to do. She sees Lola as a kind woman, who despite her situation, would do anything to make anyone happy. "She deserves better" She always thinks to herself, whenever she remembers her boss. She seldom sees Mr. Lincoln as he is never home, and whenever he does return, he was always in his study. She didn't like him very much, for many reasons, as he was nothing like Lola. After unlocking the door, Lola returned the spare key to its position, mentally reminding herself to take her own key next time. The hallway was dark, like the rest of the house. Lola reached for the switch box, beside the coat rack, on the wall, and flicked it on. Dim orange lights lit the hallway, revealing the tidy passage. The hallway was wide and narrow, housing a coat rack, a shoe rack, and nothing more. Lola took off her heels, and swapped them for a pair of slippers, out of the many on the rack. She then walked through the hallway, and into the big sitting room, carrying her heels, and bag. She didn't bother stopping to turn on the lights, as she advanced toward the stairs. She was familiar with the whole house and could make her way through, even if she was blindfolded. She took the steps twice a time, as she wanted to get to bed as quickly as possible. She was too tired to eat or do anything, and all she wanted to do was sleep.

Lola woke up feeling a lot better. She was always like this every Saturday morning, still tired from the week's work, but very much relaxed. She was still dressed in yesterday's work clothes, and still had her jewelry on. With a groan, she sat up in bed, stretched to crack her limbs and work her sore muscles. She got out of bed after that and made her way to her dresser. Her dresser was a big table/drawer, which could be used by two or three people. It had a mirror, that was attached to the wall also. The top of the dresser was not so messy, with only a few things resting on it. She started removing her jewelry, so she could put them away in the drawer, set aside for her jewelry. When she was done with that, she stood looking at her reflection, in the mirror. Lola was a beautiful woman, with what one would call, a perfect physique. she was not so short for a grown woman, as she stood at exactly 5'6. She had a slim thick figure, with average-sized breasts, a slim waist, curvy hips, and just the right butt for her size. She had smooth and glittering milky skin, a not-so-round face, soft brown eyes, and black long hair. Lola could pass for a very attractive and sexy young woman. She made her way to her joint ensuite bathroom and toilet, to freshen up. She finished her business and was dressed in an hour. She wore a purple jumper, black soft leggings, and her favorite pair of crocs. She decided to head downstairs to make breakfast, and say hello to Penelope. The corridor was slightly cold, as Lola stepped out of her room, making her shiver. The London air was getting cooler, as winter was drawing close. Lola was glad, she was in warm clothing, and reminded herself to tell Penelope, to leave the house's heater on, before leaving. Penelope was busy moping the dining room floors when she got downstairs.

'Good Morning Penelope' Lola greeted, with a smile.

'Good Morning Mrs. Lincoln. I hope you rested well?' Penelope grinned, abandoning her work. Lola did not try to correct the woman, as she had previously urged her to call her by her name, but she refused.

'Well enough, thank you. I hope you did as well?' Lola returned.

'Ah yes, yes I did.' She answered, to which Lola smiled.

Lola began making her way toward the kitchen door when Penelope called her back. 'Yes, Penelope?'

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

'Mr. Lincoln is back, and told me to inform you, that he would like to see you in his study.' Penelope said.

'Oh? And when did he arrive?' asked Lola

'He came shortly after I did. I can't say the exact time.' Penelope answered, earning a nod from Lola. She smiled and said; 'Thank you, Penelope. I will go after making breakfast. I would keep yours, in the kitchen' before walking away, and into the kitchen. Lola was not much of a cook, in fact, she detested doing chores, including cooking, but she could still prepare basic meals. She agreed on making toast, eggs, and bacon. She got busy in the kitchen, and managed to finish, in thirty minutes. She served herself, Penelope, and also her husband. She would take it to him after eating. The food was good, and it filled Lola up. She washed it down with coffee and proceeded to take Mark's breakfast to him. She had also made him coffee, to go with his meal. No meal was after all, complete without coffee. At least, that was what she thought. Penelope was no longer in the dining room when Lola passed there. Mark's study and bedroom, were not on the middle floor, like her bedroom. His was on the top floor, secluded from Lola's. His study was the last room, on that floor. Lola had been inside a couple of times but had never been there for more than ten minutes. The room beside his study was his bedroom. That was the only room, Lola had never entered in the whole house, as it was off-limits. She was now standing in front of the chocolate-colored door, to his study, carrying the tray containing the food, she made for him. "Would he even eat it?" She thought, as she contemplated knocking, or returning the food.

Releasing a soft breath, she decided to knock. if he doesn't eat it, it's his business, not hers, so she shrugged the thought off. She landed two soft yet sharp knocks on the door, and waited for permission to enter. 'Come in' His muffled deep voice called out. He sounded intimidating, even from the inside. Lola opened the door and walked inside. The room was slightly dark. It was probably because of the curtains which were drawn only slightly, denying the sun much access, or because of how dim the lights were, or it was just the room's interior. The room's dark aesthetic, made it look mysterious and intimidating. Lola couldn't tell if the walls were painted a deep grey color, or black, because of how dark everything was. The room was similar to her office. Like hers, there was a shelf containing books, a lounge sofa set in the center of the room, and mark's desk chairs and table. That was all to it. Mark was sitting on a single sofa in the middle of the room, so Lola made her way over to him. He was sitting cross-legged as he watched her make her way toward him, with the tray in her hand. Lola placed the tray on the center table and took her sit across from him, without saying anything. Mark's blue eyes looked between Lola, and the tray, before resting back on Lola. His face was hard and emotionless. "What is he thinking? Should I say something?" Lola thought as she stared back at him, trying to read his expression, only she couldn't. She ended up saying; 'I made breakfast. I figured you had not eaten, so I brought you a plate' Her voice was not wavering like those women in movies, who are terrified of their husbands. Hers was direct, sharp, and smooth. She did not want Mark to think, she was afraid of him or anything, so she was always like this in his presence. No smiling, no laughing, and definitely no joking. Mark nodded but said nothing. He just kept staring at her, which was getting really uncomfortable for Lola.

'Penelope said, you asked to see me?' questioned Lola, wanting to leave the room as soon as possible.

'Yes, I did.' He finally said.

'Well, I am here.' She stated.

'Yes you are' He said again, pausing before continuing, much to Lola's irritation. 'When last did you speak to your mother?' He suddenly asked. Lola was shocked by this question, as she did not see it coming.

'I haven't spoken to her in a while.' answered Lola.

'When you say in a while, how long do you mean?' Mark questioned again.

'I don't know, like some months? Why are you asking me this?'

'Some months? Or two years?' Mark asked, completely ignoring Lola's question.

'I lost count. I have been too occupied with work. Why all these questions?' She repeated.

'Too occupied? I see.' He ran his hand through his brown hair 'Your mother phoned the office yesterday. She did not sound very happy. I could say, she was very devastated even.' He continued. Lola did not say anything, and just let him carry on talking.

'She asked about you and said you had not been in touch, for two years now. Why is that?' He asked.

'I just said, I have been very busy with work.' She muttered.

'Too busy to pick up her calls, or reply to her emails? She even mentioned something about mailing you a letter. You were too busy to read it also?'

'I did not get any letter' She lied, and Mark shook his head.

'That is not the point Lola. Are you saying, you are too busy to be a good daughter? All these are nothing but lame excuses.' He said, and Lola shrugged. She wasn't going to say anything. He could assume whatever he wanted. He was just as wicked as her parents to her anyway.

'We are going to your parent's next weekend.' He finalized, making Lola scoff. Mark was slowly getting agitated, by her behavior. He frowned as he watched her talk.

'Count me out. I am not going there with, or without you. Mother called you, and i will call her after this. Case settled. Going to Manchester is unnecessary, and is never going to happen.' She said, and watched him smirk in amusement." Was this funny?" she wondered, glaring at him.

'You have no say in this. We are going, and that's it' His smirk was still in place.

'You have no right to tell me what I will do, and what I won't. You have zero rights. If I don't want to go, you can't make me.' Lola replied, angrily. Mark was silent, as he did not feel the need to argue with her. He just sat there watching her.

'Was this why you came back? To act like the perfect son-in-law? Well screw you, Mark.' he clenched his fists but said nothing.

'Answer me, was that why? You come here, and start preaching about being a good daughter, when I am like this because of you. And them!!' She was almost yelling now. Lola was never like this, but she was beyond pissed.

'That's enough Lola' she ignored him and got up. She was getting on his nerves, and she knew it.

'Are you a good husband, Mark? Are you? Marrying you was one of the biggest mistakes, I have ever made. You leave home and return to tell me all these, after warming some slut's be........' Lola didn't get to complete her sentence, as she was cut off by a slap that landed on her left cheek. Mark had just slapped her. The throbbing pain on her sore cheek was evidence of his action. He had hit her. Lola could not move, nor did she flinch. She could not move or talk, as she was still in shock. Her hand moved to palm her cheek, as she glared at the man in front of her. Mark was fuming, with rage. All he could see was red. He had never hit any woman before, not to talk of his own wife. Hell, he even fights against domestic violence in court. He had always held back and tried as much as possible to ignore Lola, but he was furious. Marrying her was not an exciting thing for him either, but she had no right to accuse him of being promiscuous. That did it for him. He tried to calm himself down, as he stood there, watching her face contort in pain.

'We are going to Manchester as I said. Now le........' He didn't need to finish, because Lola was already walking towards the door. She was walking stiffly and without emotion. She opened the door, walked out, and did not bother to close it back. She could hear things being thrown around in Mark's study, as she walked down the hall, but did not care much to stop, as all she wanted was to be far away from him.