Waiting for Love

I’ll admit, I rolled my eyes when I saw the ‘small-town island romance’ label—until about 20 minutes in, when Adam and Abby’s first real conversation devolved into a bickering match so specific and *lived-in* that I actually laughed out loud. That’s the magic of *Waiting for Love*: it’s a romance that remembers people are flawed, and that chemistry isn’t just about sparks but about *recognition*. Force writes dialogue like a playwright, and Fielding’s narration sells every beat. I loved how she voices Abby’s sarcasm with a brittle edge, like she’s one more bad date away from snapping, while Adam’s deeper register carries the weight of a man who’s used to being the tough guy but is secretly terrified of vulnerability. The middle act drags slightly—there’s a subplot involving Abby’s sister that feels like it belongs in a different book, and Adam’s internal monologues about his career could’ve been tightened. But the payoff is worth it. The sex scenes (yes, there are a few) are refreshingly *funny*—awkward, tender, and real—in a genre where intimacy often gets polished into something sterile. And the ending? No grand gestures, just two people choosing each other, day after messy day. The production quality is flawless, with seamless edits and ambient sounds (seagulls, ferry engines) that ground the story without overpowering it. If you’re tired of romances where the conflict is a misunderstanding that could be solved with a five-minute conversation, this is your antidote. Just don’t blame me if you start Googling off-season rates for Gansett Island by Chapter 3.