The Husband's Secret

By Liane Moriarty

Finally to be had in paperback—the number one New York Times bestseller from the writer of Big Little Lies and What Alice Forgot.

At the guts of The Husband’s Secret is a letter that's not intended to be read...

My darling Cecilia,
If you’re studying this, then I’ve died...

Imagine your husband wrote you a letter, to be opened after his demise. think, too, that the letter comprises his private, darkest secret—something with the capability to damage not just the existence you've outfitted jointly, however the lives of others to boot. after which think that you just stumble throughout that letter whereas your husband continues to be greatly alive…

Cecilia Fitzpatrick has completed it all—she’s a really profitable businesswoman, a pillar of her small neighborhood, a faithful spouse and mom. Her existence is as orderly and spotless as her domestic. yet that letter is set to alter everything—and not only for her. There are different girls who slightly comprehend Cecilia—or each one other—but they, too, are approximately to consider the earth-shattering repercussions of her husband’s secret.

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I like her to death,” stated Mahalia, who was once sitting on Cecilia’s correct. “But it truly is difficult to think she runs a faculty. ” “Trudy doesn’t run the school,” acknowledged Laura Marks, who was once sitting on her different part. “Rachel Crowley runs the college. including the beautiful woman in your left. ” Laura Marks leaned in entrance of Mahalia and waggled her hands at Cecilia. “Now, now, you recognize that’s now not real. ” Cecilia smiled roguishly. She felt like a demented parody of herself. without doubt she was once overdoing it? every little thing she did felt exaggerated and clownlike, yet no one looked as if it would become aware of. The song all started, pounding out in the course of the state of the art sound process that Cecilia’s hugely winning paintings exhibit raffle had paid for final 12 months. The dialog rippled round Cecilia. “Who selected the playlist? It’s fairly solid. ” “I be aware of. Makes me consider like dancing. ” “Yes, yet is anyone hearing the lyrics? have you learnt what this track is ready? ” “Best to not. ” “My little ones understand all of them besides. ” The kindergarten classification was once first to dossier out, led by way of their instructor, the fairly appealing busty brunette omit Parker, who had made the simplest use of her average resources by means of dressing up in a fairy princess costume that used to be sizes too small for her, and used to be dancing alongside to the track in a way maybe no longer relatively befitting a kindergarten instructor. The tiny kindergarteners her, grinning proudly and self-consciously, conscientiously balancing the widely used Easter hat creations on their heads. The moms congratulated each other on their children’s Easter hats. “Ooh, Sandra, inventive! ” “Found it on the net. Took me ten mins. ” “Sure it did. ” “Seriously, I swear! ” “Does leave out Parker detect this can be an Easter Hat Parade, no longer a nightclub? ” “Do fairy princesses quite often exhibit that a lot cleavage? ” “And incidentally, does a tiara really matter as an Easter hat? ” “I imagine she’s attempting to get Mr. Whitby’s awareness, bad lady. He’s now not even taking a look. ” Cecilia loved occasions similar to those. An Easter hat parade summed up every thing she enjoyed approximately her lifestyles. the beauty and ease of all of it. The experience of group. yet this present day the parade appeared unnecessary, the kids snotty-nosed, the moms bitchy. She stifled a yawn and smelled sesame oil on her arms. It used to be the smell of her existence now. one other yawn overtook her. She and John-Paul have been up past due making the women’ Easter hats in strained silence. Polly’s classification made their visual appeal, led via the lovely Mrs. Jeffers, who had long gone to an immense lot of hassle to decorate as a huge shiny-pink-foil-wrapped Easter egg. Polly used to be correct in the back of her instructor, strutting alongside like a stick insect, donning her Easter hat tilted rakishly over one eye. John-Paul had made her a bird’s nest out of sticks from the backyard and stuffed it with Easter eggs. A fluffy yellow toy chick emerged from one of many eggs as though it have been hatching. “My Lord, Cecilia, you’re an absolute freak. ” Erica Edgecliff, who used to be sitting within the row in entrance of Cecilia, rotated.

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