Some books you read, enjoy, and move on from. And then there are books that sit with you — quietly, heavily — long after you’ve turned the last page. Verity was that kind of book for me.
I finished reading it on the 29th of December 2025, and honestly, I didn’t feel done with it at all. I closed the book and just sat there, staring at it, trying to process how uneasy I felt. That lingering discomfort? That’s when I knew Colleen Hoover did exactly what she intended to do.
🖤 Inside the Villain’s Mind
What really pulled me in was the decision to let us experience the story through what feels like a villain’s point of view. That’s a bold move. It’s uncomfortable. It forces you to sit with thoughts you don’t want to agree with, emotions you don’t want to understand — yet somehow, you do.
Reading those sections made my skin crawl, but at the same time, I couldn’t look away. It made me realise how complex human emotions really are. Jealousy, desire, resentment, fear — all tangled up with love. Verity doesn’t soften these feelings. It exposes them.
💔 Love or Obsession?
This book really messed with my idea of love.
In Verity, love doesn’t always feel warm or safe. It often feels obsessive, physical, and ego-driven. The intimacy is intense, almost consuming, but the emotional and intellectual connection feels fragile. I kept wondering whether the characters truly loved each other — or were simply addicted to what they gave each other.
Even the love for children, something we instinctively believe is unconditional, is portrayed in a way that feels unsettling and complicated. As a reader, that part hit hard. But maybe that discomfort is exactly what we’re meant to feel.
🤯 The Questions That Wouldn’t Leave Me Alone
When I finished the book, I wasn’t satisfied — I was curious. And unsettled.
I kept thinking: How does an author write such raw, villainous emotions so convincingly? Where does that depth even come from?
Some emotions described felt uncomfortably close to real psychological struggles. At moments, I even wondered whether certain behaviours could be linked to postpartum depression — or if that explanation is too simple for something so dark and layered.
And then came the thoughts I couldn’t shake:
What if the truth we’re shown isn’t the whole truth?
What if someone else was quietly pulling the strings?
What if love, money, success, and jealousy were far more connected than we like to admit?
The fact that the book never gives clear answers is what makes it so powerful.
📚 Same Vibe as The Silent Patient
I read Verity back to back with The Silent Patient, and I couldn’t ignore how similar they felt. Same genre, same psychological tension, same feeling of constantly questioning what’s real and what’s not.
Both books rely heavily on silence, secrets, and unreliable perspectives. They don’t rush — they slowly unravel your trust. If you enjoy thrillers that play with your mind rather than action-packed chaos, this is definitely your lane.
🎬 Waiting for the Movie
Now that I’ve read the book, I can’t help but think about the movie adaptation. I’m excited… but also a little nervous. Verity is such an internal, psychological story that I wonder how it’ll translate on screen.
I’m really hoping the movie captures the intensity, the discomfort, and the ambiguity that made the book so unforgettable for me.
🌺 Final Island-Girl Thoughts
Verity is not an easy read — and it’s not meant to be. It’s unsettling, provocative, and intentionally confusing. It challenges ideas of love, motherhood, ambition, and morality, then leaves you alone with your thoughts.
I may have finished the book, but it definitely hasn’t finished with me.
And honestly? That’s exactly the kind of story I love.
Some books you read, enjoy, and move on from. And then there are books that sit with you — quietly, heavily — long after you’ve turned the last page. Verity was that kind of book for me.
I finished reading it on the 29th of December 2025, and honestly, I didn’t feel done with it at all. I closed the book and just sat there, staring at it, trying to process how uneasy I felt. That lingering discomfort? That’s when I knew Colleen Hoover did exactly what she intended to do.
🖤 Inside the Villain’s Mind
What really pulled me in was the decision to let us experience the story through what feels like a villain’s point of view. That’s a bold move. It’s uncomfortable. It forces you to sit with thoughts you don’t want to agree with, emotions you don’t want to understand — yet somehow, you do.
Reading those sections made my skin crawl, but at the same time, I couldn’t look away. It made me realise how complex human emotions really are. Jealousy, desire, resentment, fear — all tangled up with love. Verity doesn’t soften these feelings. It exposes them.
💔 Love or Obsession?
This book really messed with my idea of love.
In Verity, love doesn’t always feel warm or safe. It often feels obsessive, physical, and ego-driven. The intimacy is intense, almost consuming, but the emotional and intellectual connection feels fragile. I kept wondering whether the characters truly loved each other — or were simply addicted to what they gave each other.
Even the love for children, something we instinctively believe is unconditional, is portrayed in a way that feels unsettling and complicated. As a reader, that part hit hard. But maybe that discomfort is exactly what we’re meant to feel.
🤯 The Questions That Wouldn’t Leave Me Alone
When I finished the book, I wasn’t satisfied — I was curious. And unsettled.
I kept thinking: How does an author write such raw, villainous emotions so convincingly? Where does that depth even come from?
Some emotions described felt uncomfortably close to real psychological struggles. At moments, I even wondered whether certain behaviours could be linked to postpartum depression — or if that explanation is too simple for something so dark and layered.
And then came the thoughts I couldn’t shake:
What if the truth we’re shown isn’t the whole truth?
What if someone else was quietly pulling the strings?
What if love, money, success, and jealousy were far more connected than we like to admit?
The fact that the book never gives clear answers is what makes it so powerful.
📚 Same Vibe as The Silent Patient
I read Verity back to back with The Silent Patient, and I couldn’t ignore how similar they felt. Same genre, same psychological tension, same feeling of constantly questioning what’s real and what’s not.
Both books rely heavily on silence, secrets, and unreliable perspectives. They don’t rush — they slowly unravel your trust. If you enjoy thrillers that play with your mind rather than action-packed chaos, this is definitely your lane.
🎬 Waiting for the Movie
Now that I’ve read the book, I can’t help but think about the movie adaptation. I’m excited… but also a little nervous. Verity is such an internal, psychological story that I wonder how it’ll translate on screen.
I’m really hoping the movie captures the intensity, the discomfort, and the ambiguity that made the book so unforgettable for me.
🌺 Final Island-Girl Thoughts
Verity is not an easy read — and it’s not meant to be. It’s unsettling, provocative, and intentionally confusing. It challenges ideas of love, motherhood, ambition, and morality, then leaves you alone with your thoughts.
I may have finished the book, but it definitely hasn’t finished with me.
And honestly? That’s exactly the kind of story I love.
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