Page 17 of Circle of Strangers
He fires off another question. “Did she say how long it’s been going on?”
“No, and I didn’t want to ask. She seems a little ... emotionally unstable.”
He shifts beside me, propping himself up on one elbow. “What else did she say?”
I give him a lazy smile, hoping it looks as unbothered as I need it to. “Is it just me or are you oddly curious about this?”
He chuckles, brushing a strand of hair from my face before kissing the top of my head. “You’re overthinking. I’m just making conversation with my gorgeous wife, and if that entails getting the scoop on the latest neighborhood gossip, so be it.”
He winks and I force a soft laugh, letting my head sink back onto the pillow. But a quiet flicker of doubt sparks in my mind. If he is just “making conversation,” he seems to be leaning in and absorbing every word of it more than ever.
I bite my tongue, choosing to play dumb. If he’s fishing, I want to know what he’s hoping to catch.
Will lobs yet another question. “Why doesn’t she leave if he’s being unfaithful?”
“She said she feels trapped.” I add, as casually as I can manage, “Apparently he controls all the money and she doesn’t work, so she doesn’t think she can leave.”
Will hums again, stroking his hand along my leg. “Sounds tough.”
“She’s not blameless,” I say, my tone sharpening just slightly. “She admitted she helped Oscar cheat on his first wife. Kind of sounds like karma to me.”
He blows a puff of air through his nose. “Since when have you believed in karma?”
I want to ask if I really need to mention the recent events that took place in San Diego, but I think better of it. We’re having a lovely evening and I don’t want to ruin it by mentioning Jacqueline. She no longer gets to exist in this exclusive little enclave of ours.
Will shifts beside me, his fingers brushing along my calf as he stares absently ahead.
Clearing my throat, I say, “Still ... it’s not easy, being married to someone with a temper.”
I want to test him, to see how he reacts at the suggestion that Mara could be in physical danger.
“She told you that?” Worry lines spread across his forehead.
“No, she told me he likes to break things when he’s mad.” I pause.
Will sighs. “Has he ever hurther?”
Something about the way he says it makes my stomach twist. There’s a weight to his words, like they carry more meaning than he’s letting on. I study his face in the dim light, searching for something—anything—that might give him away. But his expression is smooth, unreadable.
Will’s an intelligent, observational man. He’s got to be aware Mara was flirting with him at the party. And he’s only human. I don’t know many red-blooded middle-aged men who wouldn’t get a kick out of some gorgeous blonde looking his way.
Plenty of happily married people have fantasies.
As long as he doesn’t act on it, we’ll be fine.
If he acts on it, he’ll be throwing away all the hard work I’ve done to create this perfect little life of ours.
He’d be stupid to even consider it.
It doesn’t get better than being married to me, and I don’t say that out of arrogance. I know what I bring to the table: intention, intelligence, protectiveness. The perception of obedience and desire, a willingness to “serve.” I make his life better in all the ways.
Mara could never.
“Oscar’s the kind of guy I wouldn’t set up with my worst enemy,” he adds. “He’s lucky to have someone like Mara, who stays by his side no matter what. Not everyone is that loyal—or tolerant.”
I don’t care for his tone or the fact that he’s speaking about her as if he knows her on any level beyond surface.
“How do you know she’s loyal?” I ask.
