Lucy Mayer is a dynamic protagonist whose storyline centers on the painful process of redefining one’s identity when a lifelong dream proves unfulfilling. At the novel’s start, Lucy is a disillusioned author whose passion for writing has been eroded by the financial instability and emotional toll of the publishing industry. She feels the universe “had not kept its end of the bargain” (13) and is consumed by a sense of failure, despite her talent. Her decision to quit writing fiction is a radical act of self-preservation, a choice to protect her love for storytelling from the pressures of commerce. Lucy’s viral essay, “Why I Love Books Too Much to Keep Writing Them,” brings her the widespread recognition she craved as a novelist, forcing her to confront what she truly wants from her professional life.

As a character, Lucy is highly articulate and creative. Her ability with words allows her to name the group’s shared desires and fears, and she provides important comfort, especially to Collins. This creativity, however, is paired with a practicality born of necessity. Faced with being “unqualified” (12) for traditional jobs, she resourcefully pivots toward an MBA, a seemingly counterintuitive path for a creative artist. This choice demonstrates her adaptability and her determination to find stability, even if it means stepping into an unfamiliar world of “corporate cultures” and “performance metrics” (12). Her journey through the MBA program reveals that her creative skills are valuable assets in a business context, challenging her initially limited view of her career options.

Lucy’s transformation culminates in her ability to synthesize her two seemingly disparate worlds. She realizes she does not have to abandon her creative identity to pursue a stable career. Her final project, a multimedia brand coproduced with Marie, represents the perfect fusion of her writing talent and her newfound business acumen. She rejects the binary choice between being a starving artist or a corporate sellout and instead creates a third path that honors her skills and her values. By the end, Lucy has built a new, more integrated life, demonstrating that personal and professional fulfillment can be redefined at any stage. Her emerging relationship with Enzo also reflects that romantic relationships can appear at any stage of life and reflects Lucy’s willingness to try new things and embrace change.

Brooke is a dynamic protagonist whose character arc explores letting go of a singular, all-consuming life goal. At the start of the novel, her identity has been defined by her struggle with infertility, a journey that has demanded immense physical, emotional, and financial sacrifice. This single-minded focus has left other parts of her life, including her social connections and personal interests, paused. Her decision to stop the treatments is a deep act of surrender, not of failure: She begins to question whether the pursuit of her dream is costing her happiness in the present day. Brooke’s character arc is complemented by the profound support she receives from her husband, Mitch. He helps her to imagine a new future and find a sense of joy and purpose in imagining a happy life without children. 

Because of her surprise pregnancy, Brooke must contend with recalibrating her life not once but twice. Her unexpected pregnancy activates deep-seated caution and anxiety, a defense mechanism forged by years of repeated disappointment. This wariness prevents her from feeling joy. Instead of a miracle, the pregnancy feels like another potential heartbreak, a “cruel joke” (131) from the universe. Her inability to trust this good fortune creates a painful internal conflict and a temporary rift with Mitch, as she insists he proceed with their travel plans without her. This period of separation forces her to confront her fears and reevaluate what she wants her family to look like, moving beyond the conventional suburban ideal she had previously chased. Her conversations with her OB-GYN and her discovery of the “Have Baby, Will Travel” community are key, opening her mind to unconventional paths to building a family.

Brooke’s journey is one of redefining what it means to be a mother and a partner. By the novel’s end, reunited with Mitch and planning a life abroad, Brooke has shed her rigid expectations and embraced a future defined by flexibility, trust, and a newfound appreciation for the unexpected. Despite her internal turmoil, Brooke is also deeply empathetic and is a pillar of support for her friends. It is through these acts of caring for others that she begins to recognize her own maternal instincts and capabilities, separate from the biological process of conception.

Collins Hartley is a dynamic and round protagonist who journeys from despair to revitalization in the wake of her husband’s death and her own serious health challenges. As a young widow, she is initially paralyzed by the loss of her husband, Sullivan. She describes herself as caught in a riptide of grief, finding it “safer to float indefinitely” (18) than to actively swim back to shore. Her identity has become entirely enmeshed with his legacy; she is his manager, his assistant, and, most saliently, his widow. This role, while a way to honor him, also traps her, preventing her from imagining a future or an identity of her own. Her decision to join the pact is a tentative first step toward quitting this stasis, though she is the most hesitant member. Initially, Collins is unsure what she will contribute to the group. 

Her path is the most harrowing of the four friends, marked by a serious fall on the mountain and a subsequent, life-threatening cancer diagnosis. This series of traumas acts as a crucible, forcing her to confront her self-blame and her relationship with Sullivan’s memory. Her loyalty to Sullivan is a defining trait, but it is a double-edged sword. It drives her to meticulously manage his estate but also causes her to feel she is betraying him by considering a new life or new love. Her physical recovery runs parallel to her emotional healing, as she learns that she must prioritize her own survival, even if it means letting go of the duties she once saw as sacrosanct.

Her ultimate transformation is one of deep self-forgiveness and reclamation. In the Epilogue, told from Collins’s perspective, it is revealed for the first time that her fall was not purely accidental—in a moment of despair, she had chosen to “let go” (309), something she never told anyone and never would. The irony that this act inadvertently saved her life by revealing her cancer allows her to find peace. By relinquishing control of Sullivan’s estate to Sara and choosing to build a new life in Saugatuck, she quits being “Sullivan’s Collins” and becomes simply Collins. She integrates his memory into her new life rather than living in its shadow, demonstrating a mature and subtle understanding of what it means to move forward in the face of loss.

As Marie’s husband, Kyle is a foil and a source of conflict in the narrative. He is characterized by his emotional and logistical absence from his family’s daily life, content in a status quo that places an unequal burden on Marie. When confronted with her unhappiness, his initial reaction is defensiveness and an unwillingness to prioritize counseling, focused on romantic gestures rather than addressing the fundamental imbalance in their partnership. Though he eventually agrees to seek counseling to become a better coparent, this change comes too late to save the marriage, positioning him as a static character who only begins to evolve after the central relationship has already fractured.

Mitch serves as Brooke’s supportive and loving husband, acting as a foil to the more disconnected Kyle. His defining characteristic is his steadfast devotion to Brooke, which he articulates with the promise, “Wherever you go, I follow” (40). He is a dynamic character, readily abandoning their shared goal of parenthood when he sees the toll it is taking on his wife and later embracing a nomadic lifestyle he never would have chosen on his own. His journey abroad tests their bond, but his ultimate decision to secure a job in London demonstrates that his primary motivation is to build a new life with Brooke, solidifying his role as a deeply committed and adaptable partner.

Sullivan’s biological daughter Sara is a dynamic character who initially appears as an antagonist, adding to Collins’s emotional burden with her critical and resentful letters. Her hostility is later revealed to be a product of deep-seated regret over her fractured relationship with her father and her decision to decline his request that she consider managing his estate. After Collins’s accident, Sara’s desire for reconciliation transforms her into an unlikely ally. She uses her professional connections to help Collins and stops fighting over control of the estate (which grants Collins the space to accept that she does want to relinquish some control). This evolution from a source of conflict to a source of support is important for Collins’s healing, allowing both women to find a new, healthier relationship with Sullivan’s legacy and with each other.

Enzo is a minor character who is a romantic interest and a supportive catalyst in Lucy’s journey of reinvention. From their first meeting in his role as an admissions counselor, he is characterized by his kindness and insightful advice. He is the one who suggests that Lucy’s writing and business ambitions do not have to be mutually exclusive, encouraging her to “use writing to make you better at a business career” (250). He shows a healthy, encouraging partnership that stands in contrast to the instability Lucy had come to associate with her professional life, and his steady presence helps her navigate her transition with more confidence and less fear. While the emerging nature of their relationship means he serves a different purpose from Mitch or Kyle (who are long-time spouses), Enzo functions as a model of healthy and loving masculinity who supports Lucy’s ambitions and dreams.