Imagine the scene. You've read three books in a matter of days, and these books are a fair size. You've got one book left. There is no reason you can't finish that last book in a few days. And then Christmas comes. And you have to work. And you are moving house. Seriously frustrating.
All you want to do finish this gosh darn book! You aren't even really enjoying the series but there is some kind of sick fascination that keeps you ploughing on. I mean, your friend has already spoiled for you that it was the baby she was destined to have that he was in love with. Why would you want to read that? Who knows. But you do.
Finally you start reading.
If I hadn't been quite so unhealthily addicted thanks to the earlier books I would never had made it to this terrible conclusion. I was determined to read the book before New Years Day and I slowly felt the enthusiasm for this series being sucked out of me with each passing page.
Why talk about a fight for nearly 100 pages and then not have it?
How can the reason it never worked be because you are meant to be with the girl's child?
These and so many questions remain. Including, how can I get this time back?