Alice Feeney’s My Husband’s Wife reels the reader in almost immediately, setting up a premise lined with questions so unsettling that you know, from the get go, that things cannot possibly be what they seem.
The novel opens with a woman who goes for a run without her phone or wallet, and returns home to find another woman in her house, calmly claiming to be her. From that moment, Feeney creates a delicious sense of unease. Someone is lying. Someone is mistaken. Or worse, everyone is in on it.
That tension becomes the engine of the story. The reader is left constantly weighing possibilities: is the runner not who she thinks she is, or is the woman in the house an imposter? And what about the husband, is he complicit, manipulated, or simply blind to what is unfolding right in front of him?
I’ll admit the novel started a little slowly for me, taking time to establish its atmosphere and lay the groundwork. But a few chapters in, I was completely engrossed and read the rest of the book in one sitting. From there, the pacing tightens and the plot becomes a whirlwind of twists and revelations.
There’s also an intriguing thread of otherworldliness, hinted at through the husband’s work and the strange tone that lingers around him, making you wonder if something mystical is at play, or if the truth is far more grounded, and far more disturbing.
As with many thrillers, the plot occasionally stretches credibility, and certain character choices may leave you raising an eyebrow. Toward the end, it also becomes slightly convoluted and harder to follow as the revelations pile up. By the final pages, I was left with questions and a few loose ends that didn’t quite add up.
But perhaps that is part of the bargain with twist-heavy suspense: at some point, the reader has to surrender logic for the sake of the ride.
And what a ride it is. In the end though, My Husband’s Wife is gripping, entertaining, and undeniably addictive, the kind of thriller that keeps you turning pages long past bedtime - which I did!
