After hanging up with Linda (who, admittedly, isn't a big threat like I thought she'd be), I hurry out of the house and go over to Paul's.
For once, his door is locked. I have no idea whether to take it as a good or bad sign, so I begin to pound on the door with my fists.
Much to my relief, Paul opens the door minutes later, looking completely unharmed.
"Oh thank God! Thank God!" I throw myself at him. Startled, he stumbles back, but wraps his arms around me comfortingly.
"What's wrong?!" he demands. I hadn't even realized I'd been crying, until I pull away from his hold and notice tear stains on his shirt.
"N-Nothing. N-Nothing's wrong."
"Este—"
"Shut up. Just shut up, okay?" I press my lips to his, silencing him. "I love you. I love you s-so much."
Almost contemplated making Linda become a villain, but nah. She's my favorite of the wives.
PS: there's a pattern to these stories! See if you can figure it out ;) (I know one of you knows because I've told you sooooo don't spoil it for everyone else ;D)