Taylor Jenkins Reid's "Forever, Interrupted" sets out to explore profound themes of love, loss, and the fragility of life, but it falters in its execution, resulting in a narrative that feels emotionally barren. At the heart of the problem is the protagonist, Elsie, whose ceaseless self-absorption makes her difficult, if not impossible, to empathise with. Her endless lamentations come across as more petulant than poignant, and her lack of self-awareness is positively grating. Instead of evolving in the face of tragedy, Elsie remains ensnared in her own insular world, alienating those around her - most notably her best friend - through interactions that feel insensitive and selfish.

Ben, the male lead, fares no better. His relationship with Elsie feels as tenuous as a gossamer thread, utterly devoid of chemistry or depth. Their romance is meant to be a whirlwind of passion, but it comes across as forced, contrived and unconvincing, which left me rather cold and disinterested. It's hard to mourn a love that feels so insubstantial.

Admittedly, the novel does show some improvement in the second half. Elsie's burgeoning connection with Susan offers a glimmer of hope, as their bond feels more authentic and engaging than anything else in the novel. However, this late shift is not enough to salvage a book weighed down by its unconvincing characters and pervasive negativity.

Ultimately, "Forever, Interrupted" is hobbled by its inability to create compelling, relatable protagonists. With little emotional growth or insight from its leads, the novel's exploration of grief feels hollow, and it becomes increasingly difficult to invest in a story so bogged down by self-pity and superficial relationships.

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