Page 25 of Circle of Strangers
My steps falter for a fraction of a second. He doesn’t know anything about the dating app situation, but he’s well aware of my feelings about the Morenos and inviting them into our world.
“When?” I ask.
She turns her head toward me, her wavy ponytail bouncing. “I saw them out at the end of the driveway, maybe around seven or so. Looked like they were having a pretty engaging conversation. Your son kept wanting Will to throw the Wiffle ball but Will seemed a little preoccupied.”
My stomach tightens. He went outside to play catch with Jackson after dinner. That must’ve been when it happened.
I don’t appreciate Sozi stirring the pot—but on the other hand, this is the kind of information I’d like to have, so I act appreciative.
“I’m glad you told me. I had no idea,” I say.
Sozi scoffs, her lips curling into a knowing smirk. “Mara always seems to find an excuse to linger around other people’s husbands.”
“Has she ever lingered around Austin?”
She sniffs. “She knows better.”
I arch a brow, wondering what that means. Sozi seems harmless. Then again, so do I.
My mind races as I stare at the walking trail ahead.
Why didn’t Will mention this?
And what were they talking about?
“I just think it’s interesting, Mara plays the victim to you and then she flirts with your husband.Again.” Sozi adds fuel to an already crackling fire. “It’s obvious what she’s trying to do. I’m kind of embarrassed for her, honestly. Takes a special kind of person to want to break up a happy home.”
Flirting doesn’t mean she’s trying to break up a happy home.
But it’s worth noting.
Especially since it’s apparently becoming a thing now.
I glance at Sozi from the corner of my eye. She’s easy to talk to, easy to walk with—our steps always matching, our conversations effortless. But beneath her sunny demeanor, I know there’s a sharpness, a shrewdness that’s always watching, always assessing. Her bubbly, college co-ed persona could easily be a mask she wears. It makes her disarming, likeable even.
I pull my hoodie tighter around me, the morning chill suddenly feeling sharper. Sozi might be right—Mara’s flirtations, her tearful confessions, her innocent act—it all feels suspect.
“Keep your friends close,” I say, more to myself than to Sozi, “and your enemies closer.”
Sozi’s eyes glint with approval. “You’re catching on quick.”
We walk in silence for a few minutes, the only sound the steady rhythm of our footsteps and the occasional hum of a luxury car passing by.
“Hey, do me a favor and don’t mention anything I told you about Oscar to anyone,” I say. “I shouldn’t have gotten involved. It’s not my place.”
Sozi almost scoffs, as if my request is insulting. “I already gave you my word. Everything you tell me goes into a vault.”
I’m not so sure I believe her, so I double down. “Okay. I trust you. You’re the only one who knows. If this gets out—”
She places her hand on my arm, giving it a tight squeeze that leaves an ache the second she lets go. “Stop this. I promise, no one will ever know.”
17
“Okay, so before Oscar,” Mara begins, swirling the last bit of ice in her glass, “I was a hairstylist. Before that, I was a receptionist at my uncle’s law firm.”
The last thing I expected today was for Mara to invite herself over for drinks by the pool, but it’s an unseasonably warm day and I’ve been haunted by Sozi’s words since our walk earlier—Mara plays the victim to you and then she flirts with your husband.
I promised Oscar I wouldn’t breathe a word to anyone, but giving his wife the cold shoulder out of nowhere would raise more suspicions than anything.
