They are smart, professional women living in the same sunny, prosperous neighbourhood in lovely houses with picket fences and beautiful gardens. And they were both married to successful, good-looking men who both seem bent on having 'the perfect wife'.
They don't - ever - find themselves in the same train carriage or meet accidentally at the gym or in the coffee shop. And they don't - ever - discuss their problems and find common ground.
But they do cross paths. And they see something each recognizes in the other.
That they are living in hell.
Neither narrator is unreliable. They always tell us the truth. And their truth hurts. A lot. Because these two attractive, intelligent professional women are living in a hell of their husband's making. And there is no way to get out of hell. Is there?