{"product_id":"the-breakup-book-club-isbn-9780440001454","title":"The Break-Up Book Club","description":"\u003cb\u003e\u003cb\u003eNamed one of 2021’s Best Beach Reads by \u003ci\u003eBustle\u003c\/i\u003e ∙ \u003ci\u003eCountry Living\u003c\/i\u003e ∙ \u003ci\u003eCosmopolitan\u003c\/i\u003e ∙ \u003ci\u003eAugusta Chronicle\u003c\/i\u003e ∙ E! Online ∙ PureWow \u003cb\u003e∙\u003c\/b\u003e SheReads ∙ and more!\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBreakups, like book clubs, come in many shapes and sizes and can take us on unexpected journeys as four women discover in this funny and heartwarming exploration of friendship from the \u003ci\u003eUSA Today\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eTen Beach Road\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eMy Ex-Best Friend’s Wedding\u003c\/i\u003e.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e On paper, Jazmine, Judith, Erin and Sara have little in common – they’re very different people leading very different lives. And yet at book club meetings in an historic carriage house turned bookstore, they bond over a shared love of reading (and more than a little wine) as well as the growing realization that their lives are not turning out like they expected. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Former tennis star Jazmine is a top sports agent balancing a career and single motherhood. Judith is an empty nester questioning her marriage and the supporting role she chose. Erin’s high school sweetheart and fiancé develops a bad case of cold feet, and Sara’s husband takes a job out of town saddling Sara with a difficult mother-in-law who believes her son could have done better – not exactly the roommate most women dream of.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e With the help of books, laughter, and the joy of ever evolving friendships, Jazmine, Judith, Erin and Sara find the courage to navigate new and surprising chapters of their lives as they seek their own versions of happily-ever-after.One of \u003ci\u003eCosmopolitan\u003c\/i\u003e’s 20 Books to Read This Summer\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003ci\u003eThe Break-Up Book Club\u003c\/i\u003e is a glorious celebration of female friendships and empowerment. Once again, Wendy Wax, the queen of women's fiction,\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003ehits a homerun. She shows us what it means to be let down, only to be lifted up, higher and more determined than ever.… A heartfelt lesson in the beauty of book clubs, where people of every age, race, and social status unite behind their love of words, and ultimately, each other. Every town should have a Break-Up Book Club!”\u003cbr\u003e—\u003cb\u003eLori Nelson Spielman\u003c\/b\u003e, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Witty and warm, \u003ci\u003eThe Break-Up Book Club\u003c\/i\u003e is a delightful journey through the changing lives of four strong, fascinating, independent women. I want—no, NEED—to join this book club!”\u003cbr\u003e—\u003cb\u003eKaren Hawkins\u003c\/b\u003e, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eThe Book Charmer\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e\"A joyous tribute to female friendship and book clubs everywhere, Wendy Wax weaves the lives of diverse women (and a few charming men) together in an unputdownable story. Just try not to fall in love with every single character in \u003ci\u003eThe Break-Up Book Club\u003c\/i\u003e.”\u003cbr\u003e—\u003cb\u003eAmy E. Reichert\u003c\/b\u003e, author of \u003ci\u003eThe Kindred Spirits Supper Club\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"\u003ci\u003eThe Break-Up Book Club\u003c\/i\u003e is everything we've come to expect from Wendy Wax—a heartwarming, witty and compulsively readable tale that makes you feel like you're spending time with your best girlfriends. I loved it!\"\u003cbr\u003e—\u003cb\u003eColleen Oakley\u003c\/b\u003e, Author of \u003ci\u003eYou Were There Too\u003cbr\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  “An ensemble novel intertwining the stories of several women experiencing the highs and lows of modern love, Wax’s latest novel was built for book clubs. Sure to delight romcom fiends and fans of Emily Giffin's and Holly Chamberlin's books, it champions inner strength and the power of a fresh perspective. Highlighting the challenges of different seasons of life, Wax charts the journeys of a trusted group of strangers-turned-friends.”\u003cbr\u003e—\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003eBooklist\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Wendy Wax knows what readers crave most – to surround themselves with good friends and great books. \u003ci\u003eThe Break-Up Book Club\u003c\/i\u003e gives us a diverse group of southern women challenged by life, but with the strength of new friendships, they learn to stand strong, leap faithfully, and fight back. After reading this one, you’ll be either looking for a book club or thanking your lucky stars you belong to one.”\u003cbr\u003e—\u003cb\u003eLiz Talley\u003c\/b\u003e, Author of \u003ci\u003eThe Wedding War\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cb\u003ePraise for the novels of Wendy Wax\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “Filled with her trademark witty dialogue and crisp writing, readers will be immersed in a deeply emotional tale of what family really means, and of friendship lost and found.”\u003cbr\u003e—\u003cb\u003eKaren White\u003c\/b\u003e, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e \"Reading Wendy Wax is like discovering a witty, wise, and wonderful new friend.\"\u003cbr\u003e—\u003cb\u003eClaire Cook\u003c\/b\u003e, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times \u003c\/i\u003ebestselling author \u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “Wax offers her trademark form of fiction, the beach read with substance.”\u003cbr\u003e—\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eBooklist\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"[Wax] writes with   breezy wit and keen insight.\"\u003cbr\u003e—\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eThe Atlanta Journal-Constitution\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"If you're a sucker for plucky women who rise to the occasion, this is for you.\"\u003cbr\u003e—\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eUSA Today \u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “[A] loving tribute to friendship and the power of the female spirit.”\u003cbr\u003e—\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eLas Vegas Review-Journal\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cb\u003eWendy Wax\u003c\/b\u003e, a former broadcaster, is the author of sixteen novels and two novellas, including \u003ci\u003eMy Ex–Best Friend’s Wedding\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eBest Beach Ever\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eOne Good Thing\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eSunshine Beach\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eA Week at the Lake\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eWhile We Were Watching Downton Abbey\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eThe House on Mermaid Point\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eOcean Beach\u003c\/i\u003e, and \u003ci\u003eTen Beach Road\u003c\/i\u003e. The mother of two grown sons, she has left the suburbs of Atlanta for an in-town high-rise, that is eerily similar to the fictional high-rise she created in her 2013 release, \u003ci\u003eWhile We Were Watching Downton Abbey\u003c\/i\u003e.\u003cp\u003eOne\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eJudith\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eFavorite book: \u003ci\u003eThe Red Tent\u003c\/i\u003e—yes, still!\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI read somewhere that the very first \"book club\" (female discussion group) took place in 1634 on a ship sailing to the Massachusetts Bay Colony when a \"religious renegade\" named Anne invited a group of women—no doubt exhausted from the voyage and in dire need of a break from their husbands and children—to talk about (and apparently critique) the sermons given at weekly services. (Which was nowhere near as relaxing as, say, a conversation about \u003ci\u003eBridget Jones's Diary\u003c\/i\u003e or \u003ci\u003eWhere the Crawdads Sing\u003c\/i\u003e.)\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThey continued these discussions when they reached land (because how else did you get out of the cabin to hang with your friends?). It seems this didn't go down too well with the Bay Colony's general assembly, because they condemned the gatherings and banished Anne to Rhode Island. Which seems a bit extreme and, frankly, confusing. Perhaps they believed that the state was too small for a worrying number of women to gather?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWomen have bravely faced the threat of banishment to Rhode Island ever since, gathering in reading circles and salons and literary clubs and societies. They were aided and abetted by the Book-of-the-Month Club, galvanized by Helen Hooven Santmyer's \". . . And Ladies of the Club\", and ultimately validated by Oprah, whose meatier\/weighty exploration of dysfunction and unhappy endings put the concept on the map. And perhaps introduced the need for wine at book club meetings so as not to lose hope completely.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eOur book club was started in 2004 by Annell Barrett, who owns Between the Covers Bookstore, which takes up the bottom floor of the historic home she lives in. It sits just OTP, which is Atlanta shorthand for Outside the Perimeter, aka I-285, the highway that encircles the city—kind of like the early settlers' circling of the wagons-and separates the city folk and the suburbanites.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAnnell, who is a practical sort of woman, never saw a reason to give the book club a name or confine it to a single genre. She just wanted more readers in the store, and so she picked a book she thought people would like, wrote the title up on the chalkboard behind the register, and offered a twenty percent discount to anyone who joined the book club. Then she promised there'd be wine. (The food to soak up the wine and allow members to drive home legally came later.)\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThere were five of us, including my friend and neighbor Meena Parker, at that first meeting in the carriage house behind the store, to discuss \u003ci\u003eThe Secret Life of Bees\u003c\/i\u003e. The next month there were ten for \u003ci\u003eThe Jane Austen Book Club\u003c\/i\u003e. \u003ci\u003eHe's Just Not That Into You\u003c\/i\u003e, requested by then twenty-five-year-old twins Wesley and Phoebe, who kept falling in love with the same commitment-phobic guys, took us to fifteen members.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI chose this club over the one that started in our neighborhood because I love everything about Between the Covers and the carriage house behind it, and also because my neighbors liked to talk about one another more than the books. Plus, a few doors from home is not far enough away to avoid coming back for an especially messy meltdown, a lost cell phone, or a science project that is suddenly and inexplicably due.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eOver the last fourteen years, we've read one hundred and sixty-eight books, which Annell has duly recorded in an official book club binder that she keeps at the front desk. The group swells and shrinks. We've had two different sets of siblings. Mothers and daughters. Best friends, work friends, and the occasional frenemy. Some members have left, never to be seen again. Others have come back. One member joined as Carl and transitioned to Carlotta, and both of them totally rocked their skinny jeans in a way I've always dreamed of.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWe've tried out nearby restaurants and bars, but we always end up back at the carriage house. It's a reassuring and comforting constant in a world that can take you by surprise.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eLike the day I realized that Nathan, my husband of thirty years, had been rewriting our personal history. At first the revisions were so small I barely noticed. A minor detail reinterpreted. A tiny triumph appropriated and then repeated until it became an undisputed part of our marital history.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI never made a conscious decision to allow it. But I didn't call him on his embellishments, either. (Which in case you're wondering is the emotional equivalent of faking orgasms and then being doomed to nonorgasmic lovemaking for the rest of your married life.) This is how he became the star of our life together and I became the supporting player.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAt the moment, he's packing the things I laid out for him into the suitcase I left open on the bed. I started letting him think he was actually packing way before the creators of prepackaged meals began putting just enough premeasured ingredients in a box to convince the person assembling them that they were actually cooking.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe first time I did this, the suitcase was made of cardboard, the mattress it sat on was lumpy, and the red-and-blue-striped tie I bought him for his first sales trip came from the sale rack at T.J. Maxx.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Thanks for picking up the dry cleaning.\" Nathan stops long enough to flash me a smile. At fifty-eight, his hairline is in retreat and his features have begun to blur, but his dark eyes still crinkle at the corners when he smiles, and he can still make a person feel like the most fascinating being on the planet.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"No problem.\" I don't bother to explain that I haven't dropped off or picked up the dry cleaning for a good ten years now. Because really, how can he not know this?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Have you seen my lucky . . . Ah, there it is.\" He lifts the red-and-blue-striped tie—now an Hermès that I reorder from Neiman's as needed. \"Can't close a deal without this baby.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Oh, I'm sure you could close a deal in your sleep if you had to.\" The words of reassurance are automatic, but they barely fit through my lips. Because no amount of smiling is going to change the fact that he's leaving for Europe to introduce the Chickin' Lickin' chain of \"Southern fried chicken\" to key cities. And he did not invite me to go with him.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"I know you wanted to come, Jude, but I'm going to be racing from one meeting to the next. You'd be bored to death.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"I'm pretty sure I could have found a few things to do in Paris and Rome on my own.\" I think about those magnificent cities all lit up for the holidays. The Christmas markets. The department store decorations. The Louvre and Musée d'Orsay. The presepe in St. Peter's Square.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe slips his Dopp kit, upgraded over periodic Father's Days, into the corner of the Tumi suitcase. \"You know I'd love to have you with me, but I'm going to be completely focused on business. I can't afford to get distracted.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSomehow, I manage not to ask if he's ever heard of multitasking. Nor do I point out that he might never have been anything more than a semi-successful salesman if I hadn't been there to push and encourage him, to entertain potential franchisees and the company brass, while keeping a sharp eye on our finances.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWe never talk about the fact that I'm the one who kept us on a spartan budget so that we could buy our first Chickin' Lickin' franchise. Or that I put every penny my parents left me into a second franchise. All while running our home and our lives, serving on every PTA at every school our kids attended, being room mom and team mom and field trip chaperone and . . . it makes me tired just to remember it all.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"I heard from the children today,\" I say, because hearing from Ansley and Ethan, now in their mid-twenties and working in different cities, is always a treat and because I'm determined not to pick a fight before Nate leaves town.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Oh?\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Yes. Ethan thought the interview for the new sales position went really well.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Like father, like son.\" He nods approvingly as he tucks the last few items into his suitcase.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"And Ansley and Hannah have picked a date over Labor Day weekend.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eNate's shoulders stiffen, but he makes no comment. I'm happy that our daughter has found someone to love and share her life with. Nate can't quite accept that Ansley is in love with and wants to marry a woman.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI'm proud of both our kids. Thrilled that they're happy in the paths they've chosen. That's a parent's job, isn't it? To help prepare their children to stand on their own two feet. Wherever those feet lead them.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eIt's not their fault that that independence has left me in the cheering section of their lives without a game of my own.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Are we ready for the McCall dinner on the Thursday after I get back?\" He zips the suitcase and lifts it from the bed. \"And the cocktail reception at the club?\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Yes. Of course.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"You're the best, Jude,\" he says as he turns and walks toward me to drop a kiss on the top of my head. A friendly pat on the back follows. The kind you might give a teammate. Or the family dog. \"I can't imagine how I'd survive without you.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI follow him to the foyer, my smile frozen at the compliment that still somehow manages to be all about him. As he glances out the double glass doors to the black car waiting in the driveway, I swallow back the hurt and anger.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eNate is going to Europe where he'll be on the run, surrounded by people, and fully occupied doing business while I . . . another swallow of unpleasant reality . . . I'll be filling my time with tennis and yoga and lunch with friends. Extra volunteer shifts. Unneeded mani-pedis. Finishing the book we'll be discussing at our January book club.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Well, then.\" I swallow one last time. \"Have a good trip.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Thanks.\" He gives me a peck on the cheek and reaches for the doorknob. But then he hesitates.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"You know what?\" He turns, and my heart picks up a beat. Maybe he's going to come back and give me a real kiss. Or maybe he's going to tell me to throw some things in a suitcase and come with him—because there are plenty of shops in Paris and Rome. Or perhaps he'll invite me to join him when the meetings are over so that we can have a few days together.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"What?\" Hope surges in my veins as I look into the eyes that used to spark with love and adoration.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"I have dinners every night, and the time difference is always a pain. So, I'll just text you in the mornings to organize a convenient time to speak, okay?\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMy mini fantasy, and the hope it fueled, evaporates.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Yes. Of course.\" I smooth my face into a pleasant, unperturbed mask even as I wonder if he's expecting some sort of thank-you for fitting me in to his day. \"Whatever works best for you.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe sarcasm flies right over his head as he walks through the door, eager to go forth and conquer. While I remain behind. Like a faithful hound you leave off at the kennel on your way out of town.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAfter Nate leaves, I drink a couple glasses of wine to smooth out the angry edges, then watch HGTV reruns until it's late enough to get in bed without feeling completely pathetic. There I sit up watching The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon, then Late Night with Seth Meyers, mostly so that the house doesn't feel so big and quiet and because I'm angry in a way that's new and unfamiliar and that keeps me from falling into a real sleep.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eTired and grumpy, I down a first cup of coffee in the silent kitchen the next morning, then carry a second into the bathroom, where I shower in an effort to wake all the way up. Wiping steam off the mirror, I stare at my reflection and wish someone would hurry up and invent a way to apply makeup with your eyes closed. I actually google this, but so far no one appears to have attempted it. I am left to dry my hair and trowel on the makeup with my eyes wide open.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI putter around the house until it's finally time to dress for my early lunch at Rumi's Kitchen with Meena, but no matter how many times I check, the only message from Nate is a brief text announcing his safe arrival. There's nothing from the kids, either, though I don't necessarily expect daily communication. I have discovered that sometimes no news is the very best news of all. But this does not apply to husbands.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI'm the first to arrive at Rumi's, which is named after a thirteenth-century Persian poet, and I'm shown to a table for two in the center of the rapidly filling restaurant. I'm sitting down when Meena, who has a tendency for tardiness, texts that she's almost there.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMeena and Stan and Nate and I used to hang out together. We moved into the neighborhood around the same time and had children who were about the same age. Stan and Nate played golf together. Meena and I carpooled, made a fair doubles team in tennis, and often drove to book club together. The kids were in and out of our houses. Not long after we became empty nesters, Stan and Meena downsized to a two-thousand-square-foot condo in a Buckhead high-rise. We stayed put.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eIt turns out it's hard to hide from each other and each other's annoying habits in that kind of square footage. (Which is undoubtedly why even the least-expensive homes in the Atlanta suburbs are so massive.)\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThey separated just over a year ago. Stan and Nate still play golf. Meena and I still get together, and see each other at book club, but she's become a little less available now that Stan is out of the picture. They're not the subject of gossip they were when news of their split surfaced, but it's generally assumed that although Stan was always a bit of a jerk and a cheater, Meena, now single in her fifties, must be miserable.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThis is the first time we'll be together since their divorce became final two and a half months ago. I'm braced for anger and\/or unhappiness and prepared to offer sympathy. A bottle of pinot noir sits open and breathing on the table, and I've instructed the hostess that the bill is to come to me. But when Meena arrives, there is nothing pitiful about her.\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Berkley","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46305223049445,"sku":"NP9780440001454","price":22.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780440001454.jpg?v=1767738530","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/the-breakup-book-club-isbn-9780440001454","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}