This was chick lit for men. The writing is stilted to the point of being painful, the dialogue is robotic, the story is weak and contrived, and the characters are shallow and stereotypical. It was kind of humorous seeking chick lit from the male perspective. Jack, the protagonist, was the all-perfect male: good looking, rich and powerful, and his homemaker wife's life and thoughts revolved around him - and so did his perfect and adoring children. It was sickening, in a way.
The event that started this book in motion, the mother's leaving of her son in the cinema, was based on the real life story of the author's father. This event was such an emotional bomb that it kept me reading and hoping that the book would improve over time. It never did, which was a real shame. The emotional depth of this book was zero.