Once She Came Like a Flash novel Chapter 4

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**Chapter 4**

Lola couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, a sound that bubbled up from deep within her, tinged with disbelief. The idea that she would find pride in being Mrs. Hudson? It was almost comical. Charlie, with his narrow view of her life, truly believed she had been cradled in luxury, living a life of ease and comfort. He had no inkling of the relentless effort she had invested in mending his broken spirit and body, piecing him back together after trauma had shattered him into fragments. She had worked tirelessly, pouring her heart and soul into his recovery, ensuring that he could function like any other man.

A sharp pang of bitterness sliced through her, and a dark thought flickered in her mind: she almost wished to witness whether Rose’s so-called love could offer him solace when the shadows of his ailments returned. Would it be enough to soothe him, or would he find himself in the same desolate place he had once occupied?

With a determined resolve, she bent down, grasped her suitcase, and strode out of the house, not daring to glance back.

Charlie remained frozen in place, watching her departure unfold like a slow-motion scene in a film. He had anticipated tears, accusations, a tempest of sorrow and rage. But this serene calmness, this air of finality with which she walked away, caught him off guard. For reasons he couldn’t quite articulate, that quiet strength stung more profoundly than the sting of her slap had.

Irritation coiled tightly within him, a snake ready to strike, and in a fit of frustration, he yanked off his tie, feeling the constriction around his neck ease. He reached for the phone, dialing the Hudson legal team with a sense of urgency.

“Get the divorce papers drafted,” he commanded, his voice clipped and devoid of warmth. “Leave her with nothing.”

The thought of her pride crumbling under the weight of financial ruin gave him a twisted sense of satisfaction.

Meanwhile, Lola returned to her modest apartment, a stark contrast to the opulence of the Hudson mansion. It was far from grand, but it was hers—purchased with her own hard work, untouched by the taint of the Hudson name. It felt liberating to claim that space as her own, a sanctuary built from her resilience.

Just as she set her suitcase down, her phone rang. It was the lawyer, outlining Charlie’s terms with clinical precision. Each point felt like a dagger, piercing through her heart. The realization that she would be stripped of all marital property, cut off even from Edwin’s future support, sent a dry laugh escaping her lips.

Nine years of marriage, and this was her reward: cast aside with nothing, her connection to her son severed like a fragile thread.

“I don’t have a problem with that,” she replied, her voice steady, betraying none of the turmoil within. “But in exchange, Charlie gets none of my property either. I refuse to provide him with anything, now or ever. That’s not going to be an issue, is it?”