If You Must Go, I Wish You Triplets

I’ll admit, I rolled my eyes at first. *Another divorce memoir?* But within 20 minutes, DeLuca had me hooked—not with grand epiphanies, but with the kind of specifics that make pain feel universal. The scene where she’s negotiating childcare for three newborns while her ex’s new girlfriend texts her ‘thinking of you’? I actually laughed out loud. Stanfield’s narration sells these moments; she doesn’t over-embroider the emotion, letting DeLuca’s writing (and the absurdity of life) speak for itself. The production is clean, with no distracting edits, though I’d have loved a touch more dynamic range in the quieter, reflective passages—sometimes Stanfield’s steady cadence flattens the introspection. Where the book stumbles slightly is in its third act. The ‘reinvention’ arc feels rushed compared to the meticulous chaos of the early chapters—like DeLuca’s too eager to tie things up with a bow. And while Stanfield excels at sarcasm, her delivery of the more tender moments (like the letter to her younger self) occasionally lands as *too* measured, missing the rawness the text demands. Still, these are quibbles. The audiobook’s real triumph is its refusal to let you look away, whether DeLuca’s describing the logistical nightmare of triplet diapers or the quiet terror of dating again at 40. It’s not a ‘how I healed’ story; it’s a ‘how I survived, and sometimes that’s enough’ story—and that’s far more interesting.