One word: anticlimactic. If you're expecting one of B.A. Paris' usual psychological thriller novels, you will be sorely disappointed. The entire book, I kept expecting some kind of a twist (which is pretty much the hallmark of the psychological thriller genre). Instead, it's hideously predictable. Something I love about Paris' previous novels is her unpredictability - somehow, no matter how much you think you've figured out the storyline, she throws in a wrench that completely derails your expectations. This is in no way a thriller. My guess is that it started out as one and then Paris completely changed direction halfway though.
It also reads like an incredibly drawn-out short story; 340 pages that EASILY could have fit into 100 or fewer. Two perspectives, husband and wife, each harboring a secret that they can't bring themselves to share with the other. They spend a good couple hundred pages talking in circles, saying pretty much the same thing over and over again. It's really the most manufactured conflict. Lazy storytelling at its best. You also find out their "secrets" within the first half of the book and then spend the rest of it waiting for a twist that never comes. I realize that's pretty much what this review is doing but in some way it's making me feel better about the 6 hours I wasted reading this book.