Freida McFadden Made Me Suspicious of My Own Boyfriend

If you've ever walked out of a bad date and thought, “Wow, that was a waste of mascara,” allow me to introduce you to Sydney Shaw. Because her dating horror story makes all of ours look like a Disney Channel subplot.

We’re talking next-level awful. Worse than ghosting. Worse than being talked at about Bitcoin. Worse than a man who says "my ex was crazy" over a plate of lukewarm calamari. Because in The Boyfriend, Sydney doesn’t just get her heart broken — she gets pulled into a psychological minefield where the stakes aren’t just “will he call?” They’re will I survive this relationship?

Freida McFadden is truly one of the most diabolically talented thriller writers out there. She writes women like she knows us. Really knows us. She knows how our brains spiral, how we replay conversations 300 times, how we gaslight ourselves before anyone else can. And she uses that to craft stories that are equal parts entertaining and psychologically unsettling.

She’s not here to give you a cute, clean, tied-up-with-a-bow plot. She’s here to rip the rug out from under you on page 274 and then laugh as you question everything.

The Boyfriend is no exception. It starts soft. Cosy, even. A classic modern love story: girl meets boy, boy seems too good to be true, girl ignores early weird vibes because he’s hot and says nice things. And that’s the terrifying part — it’s believable. It’s every woman’s fear wrapped in a charming package.

Sydney’s been through it. She’s a successful woman, living in New York, navigating the garbage fire that is modern dating. She’s dealt with the parade of emotionally unavailable, inconsistent, weirdly intense-for-no-reason men. (Tell me you haven’t been there.) And just when she’s ready to write the whole thing off and focus on her plants — she meets Tom.

Oh, Tom.

He’s a doctor. He’s charming. He has manners. He’s not addicted to crypto. He doesn’t have a weird relationship with his mom. Honestly, in dating years? He’s a unicorn.

So of course, she falls for him. We all would.

But then, the cracks start to show.

First, it’s his name. Then, it’s where he works. Then, the lies start piling up faster than her text messages to friends saying “Am I crazy or…?”

And this is where the book gets deeply uncomfortable in the most effective way. Because we’ve all ignored those small lies, haven’t we? We’ve all thought, “It’s probably nothing. He didn’t mean it. Maybe I’m just being dramatic.” 

The truth is, women are trained to silence our instincts for the sake of being “reasonable.” We give second chances. We don’t want to seem “crazy.” We are SO quick to turn our suspicion inward. And that’s what Freida captures so well.

This book isn’t just about uncovering his lies — it’s about Sydney unravelling herself. Her internal tug-of-war between gut instinct and hopeful denial is something I felt in my bones. Because love, or even the idea of love, makes us want to believe in the best-case scenario. And sometimes? That hope becomes dangerous.

What makes The Boyfriend such a gripping read isn’t just the external drama (though there’s plenty of that). It’s the internal chaos. Sydney’s thoughts spiral. She questions Tom, but more painfully, she questions herself. Constantly.

“Am I being paranoid?”“What if I’m wrong?”“Maybe I just have trust issues.”“He’s so good to me... why would he lie?”

And listen — I’ve had these exact thoughts in real life. You probably have, too. That’s why this book is so effective. It weaponizes relatability. You’re not just reading a thriller. You’re living it. You start thinking about your past relationships. About that time you ignored a red flag. About that lie you brushed off. That uneasy feeling you told yourself wasn’t real.

And just when you think, “Okay, I’ve got this. I know what’s going on,” Freida McFadden grabs you by the shoulders and screams: YOU KNOW NOTHING. Because that plot twist? Came out of nowhere — and somehow, made total sense in retrospect.

I won’t spoil it, obviously, but let me just say: when the reveal happened, I audibly gasped. Then I went back and reread previous chapters just to rage at myself for missing the signs. That’s the McFadden signature — not just shocking you, but making you feel like she left the breadcrumbs right there and you still didn’t catch them.

It’s masterful. It’s cruel. It’s SO satisfying.

Should You Read This Book? Yes. But don’t go in thinking you’re safe. No one is. Not the characters. Not your trust in fictional men. Not your belief that “you’d never fall for that.”

You will. You’ll fall right into Freida’s trap — and love every twisty, tension-filled second of i

So light a candle, lock your doors, and dive in. But maybe… text your group chat and let them know where you are. Just in case.

Rating: 5/5

Will I trust men again? Unlikely.

Will I binge another Freida McFadden book? Without hesitation.

Do I need therapy after that ending? Honestly… yes.

But hey — at least I had a great time losing my mind.