Page 49 of Circle of Strangers
Will was theoneperson I trusted in this world.
That trust is gone now.
Forever.
Never to return.
He can say all the right things and give me all the foot massages and forehead kisses. He can pour me all the wine and give me all the longing, loving looks.
It’s over for us.
But for now, he has no idea how short-lived his blissful unawareness is going to be.
“Sorry about the office,” I say. “I wasn’t feeling well. I’ll come by another day and fix it up for you.”
He leans down, brushing a kiss over my cheek. I don’t move. As much as I want to pretend, I don’t have it in me. I want to shove him as far away as I can—among many other things.
He notices I’m not receptive but says nothing, his smile faltering only slightly.
Hehasto know.
How can he not?
“Feeling better now, though?” he asks after studying me for a couple of seconds.
I nod, focusing on the kids splashing in the pool. “Just tired, I think.”
Tired of his lies.
Will crouches at the edge of the pool, grinning at Georgie and Jackson. “What do you say I jump in?”
“Yes!” Jackson shouts. “Do it, Dad!”
Will glances back at me, playful, as if he thinks this’ll be the thing that gets me to lighten up. “Want me to make you a drink first? I’m home. You can relax now.”
“I have a headache.” I stare ahead at the kids, adjusting the towel over my feet.
His gaze lingers for another moment, as if he’s trying to read a foreign language between the lines.
“Okay.” He claps his hand on his thigh. “Let me get changed. I’ll be right back.”
He disappears into the house, and the moment he’s gone, I exhale slowly, trying to unclench my jaw. Being near him feels unbearable today. There’s so much I want to say but can’t—yet. The words sit in my throat, sharp and jagged, threatening to spill out if I open my mouth.
As soon as Will returns, swim trunks on and pool towel in tow, I head in.
I need space—from the pool, from Will, from the act I’m trying to keep up.
The house is cool, dim, and soundless—the kind of quiet that should feel like a reprieve but only makes the knot in my chest constrict harder. I stride toward the living room, intending to spend some quality time on the couch with my thoughts before I have to prepare dinner, but something out the front window catches my eye.
Mara.
She’s standing outside in the cul-de-sac, her posture relaxed, her arms crossed casually over her chest. Next to her, leaning in close, is Sozi.
They’re deep in conversation, heads angled toward each other, the kind of body language that implies shared secrets. Gossip. And the way they glance toward my house makes my skin prickle.
I step closer to the window, narrowing my eyes as I watch them. I can’t hear them, but I’d venture to guess they’re speaking in low, animated murmurs, their smiles knowing. Sozi whispers something, and Mara laughs, immediately covering her mouth as if whatever Sozi said was the kind of thing Mara had no business laughing about.
Then, as if sensing me watching, Sozi flicks her gaze toward my house again.
