50. Time Is a Knife

Laura - The cabin in the woods

Feeling watched, I raise my head and glance toward the door. Paul stands there, staring at me as if I were a painting at an exhibit. I can’t help but smile.

He makes a step forward as I put my book on the nightstand. Gawking at the book’s title, he almost trips on the rug by the door. This time I start chuckling while measuring his new style between the peals of laughter.

Paul frowns. “What are you laughing at?”

Jet black joggers hang at his hips and a jacket wraps around his muscular, broad shoulders. His defined collar bone settles above the hem of a black tank-top, hiding the smooth chest underneath. Tousled black hair cascades down in a set of loose strands and frames his sculpted face. He looks so different from the neatly arranged Paul I’m accustomed to.

“Nothing. Just admiring your new look.”

“I wasn’t aware you had any interest in fashion.” He raises an eyebrow.

I laugh again. "Why the abrupt shift in behavior? When did you start dressing like t