I went into the book “One Day in December” hoping for a cozy, romantic read about serendipity and enduring love. Instead, I found a story full of one-dimensional relationships, unrealistic emotional leaps and characters who frustrated me much more than they moved me.
The premise had promise: Laurie James sees a man through a bus window and she instantly feels a deep, life-changing connection. They lock eyes, the bus pulls away, and she wonders what could have been. Fast forward, and the mystery man, Jack O’Mara, reappears in her life … as her best friend Sarah’s new boyfriend. This tension could have made for a compelling, slow-burn love story, but instead, the novel takes a nosedive into shallow romantic tropes, lazy character development and a strange obsession with lust masquerading as love. Let’s just say there was a good reason Laurie only had one bridesmaid at her wedding, and she didn’t even show up.
Let’s start with Laurie. Supposedly, we’re meant to root for her as the heart of this tangled love triangle, but I couldn’t find anything to connect with. She claims to be swept away by this epic, soulmate-level connection with Jack, but it all stems from a single glance on a bus. One look and suddenly she’s in love? That’s not romance — I would call it infatuation, and it never develops beyond that. It’s a shaky foundation, and the book never bothers to build on it. The author, Josie Silver, does a lot of telling, but there is very little showing.
Laurie treats Sarah, her roommate and best friend, terribly. We do not know much about Sarah besides her being Jack’s girlfriend and Laurie’s best friend; aside from being more beautiful than Laurie, there is not much beyond that about her character. Not only does Laurie not tell her that Jack is the busboy, but she betrays her trust when she goes behind her back and kisses him. Sometimes, I felt that Laurie could’ve been more fleshed out as a character with proper emotional development and backstory. Still, there were times when I felt she only mentioned her dead sister (one of the only dimensional things about her) when she was alone with Jack to get him to feel sorry for her, so she would have an excuse to feel whatever romantic feelings she had for him.
Jack was just annoying. He dated Sarah for three years, knowing he didn’t actually love her — he was just attracted to her looks. He strung Laurie along the whole time, giving her just enough attention to keep her emotionally hooked, only to disappear and end up with another beautiful actress or television presenter. It honestly felt like he was in denial the whole time because Laurie wasn’t “hot enough” compared to the other girls he could get. Then there was a scene where Laurie calls him crying about her dad dying, and he gets “rock hard.” That is disgusting. She’s grieving, and it turned him on because she needed him that badly? Then Jack throws a temper tantrum, ripping off Laurie’s necklace, yelling at her and basically demanding sex because he was going through it, and in the next breath, he calls her pathetic. It was giving man-child energy. Jack wasn’t romantic; he was manipulative and narcissistic, and the book only made excuses for him. His actions constantly undermine the people he claims to care about, and even his big, dramatic moment, an accident that seems like it should spark emotional growth, feels hollow. It’s like it was thrown in just to try and make him sympathetic, and it didn’t work. I didn’t care anymore, I just felt manipulated.
Another absurd part of the story is the author’s insistence that Jack had to be invited to dinners and the wedding because he and Laurie were supposedly “best friends.” Laurie always mentioned a “friend group,” this supposed trio, but let’s be honest, Sarah was her only friend. Everyone else just kind of floats in and out without much weight. She talks constantly about her family without revealing anything substantial about them, and despite being presented as thoughtful or introspective, she makes deeply questionable choices, like kissing her best friend’s boyfriend. That’s not “love against all odds,” that’s just messy and selfish.
And then there’s Oscar. Poor, boring and bland Oscar. Honestly, I wanted to root for him. He’s introduced as someone who actually likes Laurie for who she is, and he brings some normalcy into her otherwise chaotic romantic life. But even that relationship feels like a placeholder. They go on one date, sleep together once and then … marriage? Really? That’s supposed to be the love that wins? Laurie admits they work well together, but pushes it away because she’s still clinging to a dream of Jack. It’s frustrating to watch, not heartbreaking. Oscar also comes off as more sexual than emotional. His comments are often laced with innuendo, and his personality never gets the space to develop into something real. We barely know anything about him besides that he wants to be with Laurie, is from a rich background with a snobby mother and says inappropriate things. It’s a missed opportunity, just like most of the relationships in this book.
The pacing throughout the novel is all over the place. Months and years pass in a few pages, while some scenes drag with internal monologues that don’t deepen our understanding of the characters. Silver doesn’t know how to balance time with development, and as a result, moments that should feel emotional or transformative just fall flat.
What disappointed me the most was how the novel tries to sell a version of love that feels hollow. Real love takes time, depth and mutual understanding, not stolen glances, surface-level tension or impulsive decisions disguised as fate. The novel leans so heavily on the fantasy of “meant to be” that it forgets to give us any real reason to root for these people. Their chemistry isn’t earned; it’s assumed. I didn’t believe in the friendships. I didn’t believe in the love story. Maybe “One Day in December” works for readers who want to believe that love is instant and destiny-driven, but it didn’t work for me.
