Calling all Colleen Hoover STAN accounts-drop the CoHo and pick up a Kennedy Ryan. Trust me. There is more substance, diversity and relatability than CoHo can hold in her little finger. Reading Before I Let Go felt like attending an intense therapy session. It was tough at times, I wanted to stop or look away, but I powered through and left feeling a major sense of relief and a little bit more emotionally intelligent. Trust me on this. It’s not your typical romance with cheesy cliches, this one has complexity and emotion that burns from the pages. There are some content/trigger warnings, including pregnancy loss, stillbirth, depression, divorce. There is also PLENTY of steam.
Check it out!
(From Goodreads) Their love was supposed to last forever. But when life delivered blow after devastating blow, Yasmen and Josiah Wade found that love alone couldn’t solve or save everything. It couldn’t save their marriage. Yasmen wasn’t prepared for how her life fell apart, but she is finally starting to find joy again. She and Josiah have found a new rhythm, co-parenting their two kids and running a thriving business together. Yet like magnets, they’re always drawn back to each other, and now they’re beginning to wonder if they’re truly ready to let go of everything they once had. Soon, one stolen kiss leads to another…and then more. It's hot. It's illicit. It's all good—until old wounds reopen. Is it too late for them to find forever? Or could they even be better, the second time around?
“Depression,” she goes on, “is a liar. If it will tell you no one loves you, that you’re not good enough, that you’re a burden or, in the most extreme cases, better off dead, then it can certainly convince you that you’re better off without the man you love, and that, ultimately, he’s better off without you.”
“Grief is a grind. It is the work of breathing and waking and rising and moving through a world that feels emptier. A gaping hole has been torn into your existence, and everyone around you just walks right past it like it’s not even there. But all you can do is stand and stare.”
“It means seeing myself clearly—good, bad, beautiful, ugly, faults, mistakes—acknowledging what I really think and feel, and not judging those emotions. Understanding myself. Not censoring it. Having compassion for myself.”