5.0 (3 ratings)
The Wife I Was: I watch them move on. But I'm still here.
Being stuck in this house with the husband I’m separating from is unbearable.
Dexter barely looks at me. When he does, it’s like I’m not even here. It’s as if he’s already erased me from his life. He won’t engage with me at all and looks to be dragging a burden around with him – a guilty conscience perhaps?
I spend hours with my Nan at her care home. She’s the only person I can talk to – the only person who’s always there for me.
What’s worse is how Dexter’s taken over with our daughter, Etta – the girl who’s been my North, South, East and West since the day she was born. He spirits her away for hours, sometimes longer, and I never know when they’ll return. She only seems to come home to sleep.
I’m terrified he’s trying to poison her mind.
At night, I watch her sleep, aching for the days when we were a happy family. Meanwhile, Dexter’s conscience seems to be growing heavier by the day.
Whatever he’s done, my Nan’s urging me to find out – and then to prove it. And if it’s as terrible as I suspect, I’ll do whatever it takes to get Etta away from him. As Nan also says in her more lucid moments, all things come to pass. Like me.
A haunting and claustrophobic psychological thriller about paranoia, betrayal, and estranged spouses still existing under one roof.
Perfect for fans of Frieda McFadden and Daniel Hurst.
Dexter barely looks at me. When he does, it’s like I’m not even here. It’s as if he’s already erased me from his life. He won’t engage with me at all and looks to be dragging a burden around with him – a guilty conscience perhaps?
I spend hours with my Nan at her care home. She’s the only person I can talk to – the only person who’s always there for me.
What’s worse is how Dexter’s taken over with our daughter, Etta – the girl who’s been my North, South, East and West since the day she was born. He spirits her away for hours, sometimes longer, and I never know when they’ll return. She only seems to come home to sleep.
I’m terrified he’s trying to poison her mind.
At night, I watch her sleep, aching for the days when we were a happy family. Meanwhile, Dexter’s conscience seems to be growing heavier by the day.
Whatever he’s done, my Nan’s urging me to find out – and then to prove it. And if it’s as terrible as I suspect, I’ll do whatever it takes to get Etta away from him. As Nan also says in her more lucid moments, all things come to pass. Like me.
A haunting and claustrophobic psychological thriller about paranoia, betrayal, and estranged spouses still existing under one roof.
Perfect for fans of Frieda McFadden and Daniel Hurst.
ISBN: 9781068544354
Reader Reviews
5.0
3 ratings
Rachel B.
Feb 8, 2026
What a story! This book was as emotional as it was shocking—suspenseful, heartbreaking, and full of twists that kept me hooked from start to finish. Georgia’s journey is both devastating and powerful, and Maria Frankland captured it with such authenticity that I felt like I was right there alongside her the entire time. The writing is clever, raw, and deeply immersive. Out of all of Maria’s books, this one is by far my favorite. She’s truly outdone herself with this unforgettable story.
Tina A.
Feb 8, 2026
Audio Review: Updated on 1/9/26
By now, I know the name of narrator Jenny Myers by heart because she has read so many of Maria Frankland’s books! Her vocal performance is so intuitive to the characters; it consistently enhances my experience and sucks me right into the story as soon as she begins speaking.
Book Review:
The Wife I Was, by Maria Frankland marks her celebratory 25th novel! And she couldn’t have released a more perfect book for this incredible milestone!
Details can’t be broken down here without giving too much away, so what I will say is you will sympathize greatly with Georgia, the main character who struggles to remember what happened on a particular night. Her Nan might be the only person who can help her, but she has Alzheimer’s, so who would believe what she has to say? Their relationship has always been strong, and Georgia will have to rely on their bond to move forward.
What readers have come to expect when delving into Maria’s writing are some very detestable characters. She didn’t hold back here! It’s what makes you emotionally vested in her protagonist from start to finish.
This is a fast page-turner that had me alongside Georgia’s every movement at every moment. Feeling as if her muddled memories were my own. Heightened drama accelerates toward the end with a jaw-dropping conclusion!
This gripping novel left me emotionally raw. Seeking truth and finding justice for Georgia and her loved ones is a journey well worth taking. I highly recommend The Wife I Was, which I believe is Maria Frankland’s best work yet!
Previous Release Day Statement:
Everything I’ve read from Maria Frankland has been a 5⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️! All of her early reviews for The Wife I was has been OUTSTANDING!
By now, I know the name of narrator Jenny Myers by heart because she has read so many of Maria Frankland’s books! Her vocal performance is so intuitive to the characters; it consistently enhances my experience and sucks me right into the story as soon as she begins speaking.
Book Review:
The Wife I Was, by Maria Frankland marks her celebratory 25th novel! And she couldn’t have released a more perfect book for this incredible milestone!
Details can’t be broken down here without giving too much away, so what I will say is you will sympathize greatly with Georgia, the main character who struggles to remember what happened on a particular night. Her Nan might be the only person who can help her, but she has Alzheimer’s, so who would believe what she has to say? Their relationship has always been strong, and Georgia will have to rely on their bond to move forward.
What readers have come to expect when delving into Maria’s writing are some very detestable characters. She didn’t hold back here! It’s what makes you emotionally vested in her protagonist from start to finish.
This is a fast page-turner that had me alongside Georgia’s every movement at every moment. Feeling as if her muddled memories were my own. Heightened drama accelerates toward the end with a jaw-dropping conclusion!
This gripping novel left me emotionally raw. Seeking truth and finding justice for Georgia and her loved ones is a journey well worth taking. I highly recommend The Wife I Was, which I believe is Maria Frankland’s best work yet!
Previous Release Day Statement:
Everything I’ve read from Maria Frankland has been a 5⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️! All of her early reviews for The Wife I was has been OUTSTANDING!
Cheyenne Joy .
Feb 8, 2026
Review
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
The wife I was by Maria Frankland
I have never—never—been this emotionally body-slammed by a book. And yes, I’m aware that might say as much about my current health situation as it does about Maria Frankland’s writing. I’m 38. I’m a mother of three. I’m a wife. I’m tired in a way sleep doesn’t fix. So clearly this was the perfect moment to read a psychological thriller that crawls inside your chest and rearranges the furniture.
The Wife I Was didn’t just mess me up. It redecorated. No warning. No mercy.
This book hit something painfully personal: the idea of being present, loving fiercely, and still feeling invisible. Of wanting to stay—not rush off, not disappear—but to linger long enough to make sure the people you love would somehow be okay if they ever had to navigate the world without you. That quiet, awful thought that maybe you live as long as the last person who remembers you. Yeah. That one. Thanks for that, Maria. Truly. I’ll be thinking about it at 3 a.m.
It’s emotional, hopeful in a crooked sort of way, and deeply unsettling. A psychological mind-f in the best and worst sense. Seeing everything. Knowing everything. And being utterly unable to make yourself heard. That concept alone made me physically nauseous. In a literary way. Mostly.
I cried. A lot. And somehow, weirdly, that made the book even better—because good friends don’t stop you from crying; they sit there and hand you tissues. This book did exactly that, then whispered something profound while you were distracted.
So yes. Five stars. Because it hurt. Because it comforted. Because it disturbed me just enough to make me want to stick around a little longer and feel things deeply.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to emotionally recover and pretend this book didn’t just know me better than I know myself.
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
The wife I was by Maria Frankland
I have never—never—been this emotionally body-slammed by a book. And yes, I’m aware that might say as much about my current health situation as it does about Maria Frankland’s writing. I’m 38. I’m a mother of three. I’m a wife. I’m tired in a way sleep doesn’t fix. So clearly this was the perfect moment to read a psychological thriller that crawls inside your chest and rearranges the furniture.
The Wife I Was didn’t just mess me up. It redecorated. No warning. No mercy.
This book hit something painfully personal: the idea of being present, loving fiercely, and still feeling invisible. Of wanting to stay—not rush off, not disappear—but to linger long enough to make sure the people you love would somehow be okay if they ever had to navigate the world without you. That quiet, awful thought that maybe you live as long as the last person who remembers you. Yeah. That one. Thanks for that, Maria. Truly. I’ll be thinking about it at 3 a.m.
It’s emotional, hopeful in a crooked sort of way, and deeply unsettling. A psychological mind-f in the best and worst sense. Seeing everything. Knowing everything. And being utterly unable to make yourself heard. That concept alone made me physically nauseous. In a literary way. Mostly.
I cried. A lot. And somehow, weirdly, that made the book even better—because good friends don’t stop you from crying; they sit there and hand you tissues. This book did exactly that, then whispered something profound while you were distracted.
So yes. Five stars. Because it hurt. Because it comforted. Because it disturbed me just enough to make me want to stick around a little longer and feel things deeply.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to emotionally recover and pretend this book didn’t just know me better than I know myself.