Disclaimer: The Loud House and associated characters belong to Nickelodeon and Chris Savino.

Why Love Fails

By Lola Presents

Chapter 1

The day Lincoln and Lola brought Nova home from the hospital was joyous. The sun was shining, the air was warm, and there was a slight breeze. Moving into her own home was the only thing that could've made the day better for Lola. However, that wouldn't come for a few more weeks. In the interim, Lincoln moved back into his parent's house, temporarily displacing Lana.

Lincoln wanted their new home to be a surprise, and Lola was forbidden to see it until it was ready. Their siblings either donated furniture or offered to help move the pieces in, depending on their ability. It was quite an undertaking to keep things covert, considering Lola's nosy roots. However, they somehow managed to pull it off. Lisa managed to secure access to all internet realty sites, much to Lola's chagrin.

After several weeks of preparation, the day came. Every room had furniture and decorations to the hilt. There were even wall-mounted pictures, courtesy of Lisa's ability to enlarge and print family negatives. Lana, who knew Lola best, made herself available to Leni for decorating advice. The result was a delightful one-story ranch-style house fit for Lincoln, Lola, and Nova, with a bedroom to spare.

There was just the right amount of each's preferences to suit them, with some excellent accents that Leni assembled, such as throw pillows, curtains, and various ornamental rugs. The bookcases were full of reading material and decorative bookends, and every surface supported some aesthetic ornament.

Currently, Lola sat blindfolded in Lincoln's new car's front passenger seat, with Nova in a cute little car seat in the back. Well, the vehicle wasn't entirely new. He'd gotten it off a used car lot near their parent's home. However, it was in a lot better condition than his last one, and for once, he didn't fear something breaking.

"How much longer, Lincoln?" inquired Lola for the one-hundredth time within five minutes.

Lola didn't appreciate the blindfold very much, which was odd, considering she slept with one. However, in this case, she was anxious to see their home.

"Pulling into the driveway now, honey," Lincoln announced. "But don't take off your blindfold yet."

Lincoln pulled onto the lot, parked the car, got out, fetched Nova from the back seat, and then opened Lola's door.

"Alright," he said excitedly. "Reach for my arm and follow me."

"Uh, okay," grumbled Lola.

Lincoln led his partner down a short flagstone walk to the front door and set Nova's detachable seat beside him. Intentionally fumbling with the keys, hoping to heighten Lola's anticipation, he jiggled them before slotting the correct one and opening the front door.

"Oh, for crying out loud!" retorted Lola. "You're doing this on purpose!"

"Of course I am, dear," Lincoln said, smiling from ear to ear.

Lincoln then positioned Lola in the open doorway and picked Nova back up.

"Alright," He chirped. "You can look now."

Despite her earlier grievances, Lola slowly removed the blindfold and glanced around.

A plush blue carpet met her eyes, followed by a lush white couch, loveseat, and recliner. A maple coffee table sat in the middle of the room, with some magazines spread across its surface and an entertainment center adorned the far wall. A large reproduction of the Christmas picture they'd made for their parents hung on the wall behind the couch. A couple of potted plants were in the room's corners, and a nice area rug was under the table.

"Oh, my, god!" Lola exclaimed. "Lincoln! This room is beautiful! Please tell me the rest are just as wonderful!"

"They are," he said proudly. "Thanks to our sisters. But go on. Check them out. Just don't strain yourself. You haven't been out of stitches that long."

With the vitality of the child she once was, Lola darted through the house, checking out the kitchen, the master bedroom, which had a personal bathroom, the guest bath, and the two regular bedrooms, one of which served as a nursery.

Finally, Lola returned to Lincoln, who was still in the living room. He had just unfolded a play mat for Nova and had placed her upon it when his sister returned. Lola glommed Lincoln from behind, unable to contain her excitement, nearly toppling him.

"I can't believe it!" squealed Lola. "You thought of everything! There's food in the fridge and everything!"

"Only the best for you, hun," Lincoln said, righting himself after Lola released her grip.

Lincoln had never been happier than at that moment, feeling his life was finally coming together. He had a great job, a lovely home, a loving wife, and a beautiful new daughter. Seeing Lola so happy filled him with pride.

It was more than just pride, though. But Lincoln couldn't quite put it into words. It was more significant than winning a pinewood derby and surpassed the intensity of unveiling a new comic line.

No, it was deeper and more fulfilling than any of those things.

Lola sat on the floor near her baby, a bit more casual than she used to be. She wore some loose jean shorts and a pink tank top. A thin white belt completed her outfit. While she would've preferred shorts that were tighter, her scar prohibited it. Still, she healed nicely over the past several weeks and enthusiastically engaged in playing with Nova.

Together, the fledgling family bonded for a few hours, but eventually, Nova tuckered out. Lola took a seat on the couch as Lincoln bundled Nova up and handed her to Lola to feed. He then took a seat next to her and watched his child feed.

Soon, the little one had fallen asleep, and Lola carried her down the hall and placed her in the cute crib that Leni had made. Lola often forgot how adept Leni was at woodworking, and so did most people. This time, Lola's older sister truly shined, producing a work of art.

Lincoln went to the kitchen and began making omelets with green peppers, onions, ham, and cheese. Just as he finished and plated the food, Lola came into the kitchen and sat down.

"That smells wonderful, Lincoln," Lola declared appreciatively.

Lincoln placed the plates on the table and took a seat. "Thanks!" he exclaimed. "I suppose I learned a bit from Dad over the years."

Lola dug in and smiled affectionately.

"So, listen," began Lincoln. "I thought a lot about things over the last few weeks, and I believe I've come to a decision."

"About what?" replied Lincoln's sister as she gulped another bite of her brother's delicacy.

"About this," Lincoln said with resolve, placing a small black velvet box on the table. "Will you marry me?"

Lola nearly choked on her omelet.

"Is this..." she began, staring wide-eyed at the little black container.

Lola swallowed the lingering bite and snapped up the box quickly, opening it just as fast. A gorgeous ring sparkled before Lola's eyes, and she cried tears of joy. It very nearly resembled a small tiara fit for her finger. Scooting her chair back so quickly that it fell over, she hurried around the table and hugged Lincoln tightly, still clinging to the box.

"Of course I will!" she cried, wrapping her arms around her brother.

This time, no makeup got streaked. After Lola's exit from the pageant industry, she no longer felt the need to doll herself up. Well, not as much, anyway. She would still use foundation and some eyeliner, but nothing outlandish.

Lincoln endured the body-crushing side-hug Lola had given him and smiled as Lola pulled away and sat in the seat beside him and went sullen.

"What's the matter, Lols?" he asked.

"It's just..." she started to say.

"Just what?" inquired Lincoln, growing concerned that his love may have doubts.

"Do you think anyone will marry us?" Lola asked plaintively, looking up at him for reassurance. "Being siblings and all... it's illegal here."

Lincoln nodded in understanding.

"It's alright," Lincoln said firmly. "We'll go wherever we have to. I'll make some calls, and I'll find somebody. I promise, no matter how long it takes."

Lola's smile returned, her face alight with a crimson glow.

"Then, yes. A thousand times, yes!" she said, holding the box with both hands in her lap.

After their brunch, the pair moved to the couch to cuddle and watch television. The couple was about ten minutes into a police drama when a knock sounded at their door.

"I'll get it!" exclaimed Lincoln, mindful of Lola's scar.

The young man got up, strolled to the door, and opened it. He didn't immediately see anyone and looked around curiously. With no other option, he looked down.

There, on the stoop, was an ornately wrapped box. Lincoln picked it up and examined it. Eventually, he found a label addressed to Lola.

"Who was it?" asked Lola, craning her neck for a better view as Lincoln closed the front door.

"I don't know," he said with confusion. "But somebody left this for you."

He handed the package over to Lola, who inspected it intently. Finding nothing conspicuous, she unwrapped the anonymous package. Inside, a folded piece of paper was lying on top of something nestled inside bubble wrap.

Lincoln looked on with curiosity. "What is it?" he asked.

"A letter, it looks like," Lola said, lifting the paper to her face.

"Well, read it," demanded Lincoln, more out of concern than curiosity.

Lola unfolded the note, stared at it, and then looked at Lincoln, who nodded.

"Remember," she read out loud. "Before you do anything, just remember."

"Go on," prodded Lincoln.

"That's it," said Lola, flipping the paper repeatedly.

Putting the note to the side, Lola dug into the bubble wrap. Inside was something that brought fear to her soul. She'd seen a book full of pictures of her and Winston before. Lola needn't open it to know what it contained, and that content filled her with dread so deep that she couldn't move.

Lola's mind floated back to when she was almost ten years old. Her feelings for her brother had already invaded her mind. Yet, she had been unaware of his feelings at the time and was in a vulnerable position. Winston happened to be there for her during that time.

It was a time Lola wished desperately to forget. Winston was cruel and used her. He told Lola he loved her, and she bought it. However, it wasn't until things became more intense that his true motives became known.

Winston was a lecher, the likes of which Rita warned Lola about. But it wasn't enough to stop Lola from pressing forward. The young girl had been in the middle of a losing streak and was still profoundly ingrained in pageantry. The need for acceptance and acknowledgment permeated her being. Winston often served as a peer judge at her competitions and used that to his advantage.

She was sure that many photos were of her, in seductive poses, on Winston's bed. It wasn't unlike him to blackmail somebody; he'd done it several times over the years. Lola believed the lies and thought herself above them. Now, it seemed that even she wasn't immune from being a target.

The young lady shuddered, though still unable to move.

"What's the matter, Lola?" Lincoln asked, perplexed at what may have frozen Lola as he reached for the binder.

Lincoln's movements snapped Lola back to reality and, with great force, threw the box, and its contents, flying across the room. The opened package hit the wall with a resounding thud, reverberating throughout the home.

"Lola?" gasped Lincoln, getting up and heading for the box. "What's gotten into you?"

"NO!" snapped Lola as she darted across Lincoln's path and scooped up the binder, which had fallen from its container. "WAIT!"

Lincoln pulled back to avoid a collision.

"Huh? I'm confused," Lincoln said flatly.

Lola stood before Lincoln and clutched the binder to her chest.

"Lincoln," Lola said apologetically. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But I can't let you learn this way."

"Learn what?" Lola's brother demanded, growing irritated at the charade.

"This... is from Winston," Lola admitted. "I'm pretty sure I know what's in it. You see, a few years ago, before I knew how you felt about me, I, uh..."

Lincoln narrowed his eyes.

"You didn't sleep with him?" he asked emotionally. "Did you?"

"NO!" spat Lola, honestly, lowering her head in shame. "Oh, God, no. But I did like him once, and he assured me I would win more often if I posed for some pictures. Not the nice kind."

"And if you didn't?" prodded Lincoln.

"He swore I'd lose!" Lola answered before falling to her knees, sobbing.

"I see," said Lincoln with little emotion.

The young man then walked past Lola, headed for the door. Lola threw the book aside and caught him at the door from behind, placing both hands on the door around him.

"Where are you going?" Lola pleaded, handing her head somberly. "Please don't do anything stupid!"

"Why?" inquired Lincoln, turning his head toward her as much as possible. "Are you worried about me? Or him?"

"You, of course. Just..." Lola cried. "Come home."

"I will," Lincoln said as he turned the knob and opened the door again. "It sounds like Nova is up. You should tend to her."

And with that, Lincoln was gone.

Lola stood there, devastated. What began as the most pleasant day ever had turned into a nightmare. Her brother, lover, and father of her child left her alone with no idea of what he was planning. On top of that, the commotion woke Nova.

Lola wiped her eyes with her hands, and proceeded to fetch her baby, then sat on the couch, cuddling her. The sight of her little one soothed her for the time being, but her mind drifted regardless.

Was Lincoln right? Did she still have feelings for Winston, as horrible and manipulative as he was? It seemed incomprehensible to her, but she was unsure of her feelings. Winston was a creep, but he'd looked out for her and provided for her.

No. That was a lie. Winston twisted her feelings and made her his puppet. She was sure of that now. Still, her soon-to-be husband was looking for him, and there was no telling what he might do.

Her legs bounced nervously, and Lola could hardly contain herself. Yet, she had to. She knew infants could sense emotional distress and didn't want to alarm Nova unnecessarily.

"Shh..." Lola cooed, kissing her child lightly on the cheek. "It's alright, baby. Daddy has something to do. Hopefully, he'll be home soon."

Lincoln drove the streets, looking for one building, particularly the theater. He knew that the boy still practiced pageantry and would likely be there. Not knowing where the lad lived didn't give him many options.

Lincoln's pulse was racing. Not at what Winston had done so much as what he could have done. What would he say or do, though? That was the question. As much as Lincoln felt like beating the man up, he and his family couldn't afford an arrest.

All Lincoln knew was that he had to confront Winston before things escalated. Lincoln had to let the snot understand where he stood. Lincoln's hands clenched around the steering wheel, noticing how heavy his foot seemed.

Lincoln lifted his foot a little, and the car settled into an average pace, which may have served to avoid a ticket. He would have to get hold of his emotions, or something wrong was likely to happen. For Lola's sake, he didn't want that to occur.

Eventually, he pulled up to the theater, and a familiar luxury limo rested not far from the entrance. The young father recognized it well, having seen it many times before. The brat was here. Now, all he had to do was find him.

Having rocked Nova back to sleep, Lola sat on the couch, holding the dreaded tome in her lap. Slowly, she turned the pages, fearful of what it held yet too curious to stop. As her fingers perused the pages, she was inundated by image after image of her and Winston together. However, nothing obscene revealed itself. Finally, she turned to the last page.

"Oh, Lincoln," she cried, closing the book and covering her face with her arms.