Page 67 of Circle of Strangers
“I didn’t realize how unhinged she was. I thought it was an innocent crush at first—and honestly, I was more upset about you and Oscar.”
I want to interject about the Oscar thing again, but he’s intent in this moment, shedding light on the Sozi thing, and I don’t want to jump to a topic that’s—at this point—moot.
“Sozi refused to leave, she kept threatening our marriage, our happiness, everything we’ve worked so hard for. I did what I had to do to protect us.To keep our family safe.” He looks at me, and in that moment, I don’t recognize him. “You’ve been protecting us for so long. It was my turn.”
“What are you saying?”
He swallows hard, his jaw clenched, like a man who’s about to confess a carnal sin.
“I didn’t want to.” His voice is a strained whisper. “I had to.”
“You had towhat?”
Will doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. His utter silence and the knowing stare he gives me is louder than any confession.
I can’t believe he did this to us.
I can’t believe he’d be so stupid to invite this kind of stress and conflict into our lives—and forwhat?
This could’ve been a conversation—not a goddamn murder.
I rise, fuming, but before I can get too far, he grabs me by the wrist, pulling me back toward him with a grip that’s almost painful.
“You can’t go to the police,” he says. “You can’t tellanyone.”
He holds me there, his eyes pleading and commanding all at once. But beneath the desperation, I see something else, something I’ve never seen in this man before.
Control.
“If you go to the police,” Will draws his words out with careful precision, “I’ll make sure you’re implicated, too. We’re in this together, Camille. If I go down, you go down with me.” He pauses, as if to give me time to process his threat. “And if youdon’tgo down with me, I’ll make sure the kids go to my sister in Germany ... or my father. Not you. I think we both know that’s a realistic possibility given your history. All I’d have to tell them is ...”
The words loom, menacing me in the night air. He doesn’t need to finish his warning. We both know how ugly this could get.
I study my stranger of a husband in an entirely different light. This isn’t the man I married. The man I married saves lives, he doesn’t take them, doesn’t ruin them.
This is someone else entirely—Jacqueline and Lucinda combined.
While I’m furious at this revelation, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t also impressed ... because if things were reversed, I’d have handled it the same way.
But I’m . . .me.
And Will is . . . not.
I’ve always held him to a completely different set of standards, standards that allowed me to respect and trust him.
All of it means nothing now.
I take a slow, deliberate breath, forcing a mask of unbothered-ness over my face. I’ve dealt with both of those women before and come out on top. I’ll deal with Will, too.
“Will,” I say, blinking and feigning shock before softening my expression into something akin to deep appreciation. Even if he knows my emotions are fake, it’s difficult for the average person not to believe what they desperately want to believe—and Will desperately wants to believe he singlehandedly saved our marriage and found a way to keep me from running into the arms of someone else.
I reach across the table, offering my hand. He interlaces our fingers, trapping mine tight between his.
“You did what you had to do,” I continue. “Just like I would have. I can’t tell you how much that means to me. How much it impresses me. This kind of thing, it’d be easy formeto do. But not you. You risked a lot and you risked it for our family.”
His hold loosens. “I knew you’d see it my way.”
Rising from his seat, he moves to me, pulling me up and wrapping me so close against his chest I can feel his heart hammering. He’s exhilarated. Relieved. Stupid.
