This book made my heart ache in the gentlest way. The writing is warm and quietly funny, with this undercurrent of sorrow that never drags but lingers like a shadow. Poppy’s grief is messy and tender, and I loved how the story never tries to rush her through it. Instead, it lets her carry it, make mistakes with it, and slowly find something beautiful through all the guilt and confusion. The romance caught me completely off guard. There’s something so raw and real about falling in love when you’re still stitched together by loss. Jake and Poppy have this unexpected, disarming chemistry, the kind that feels honest in every beat. It’s not polished or perfect, but it’s filled with longing, warmth, and that sharp kind of hope that only shows up when you’re learning to live again. I felt every bit of it. I adored it.

The story follows Poppy, who discovers unanswered messages from Jake on her deceased sister Dandelion's dating app and makes the fateful decision to meet him, pretending to be her sister on what would have been Dandelion's 40th birthday.

What strikes me most profoundly about this work is how Storey masterfully weaves together themes of grief, identity, and the desperate human need for connection. The narrative creates an almost unbearable tension - every moment of genuine intimacy between Poppy and Jake is simultaneously beautiful and heartbreaking because it's built on deception born from love and loss.

As I read, I found myself caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. There's an exhilarating rush in watching their authentic connection unfold, yet it's tempered by an underlying anxiety knowing the inevitable reckoning must come. Storey doesn't simply craft a romance; she explores the complex psychology of grief and how we sometimes inhabit the spaces left by those we've lost.

The author's ability to balance "sparkling wit and aching tenderness" creates a reading experience that feels both emotionally devastating and oddly hopeful. This isn't just about romantic love - it's about the courage required to step out of the shadow of loss and claim your own life. The moral complexity keeps readers questioning: Is Poppy's deception unforgivable, or is it a necessary step in her healing journey?

What makes this debut particularly powerful is how it refuses easy answers, instead presenting the messy, contradictory nature of human emotion with remarkable authenticity

I love how unpolished and deeply human every moment felt in this book. The emotional messiness was never glamorized, just laid bare in a way that made me ache. Jake and Poppy don’t fall in love the way we’re used to seeing. They fumble. They hurt. They want something real and stumble toward it with all their jagged edges showing. And that’s what made it feel true. The writing feels personal and close to the bone. I loved how Storey didn’t try to make the story neat. She just let it be honest. The pacing lets the feelings settle and grow, never rushed, never trying too hard to be clever. It’s sincere and quiet and sometimes that’s exactly what you need.