Surprise. When you marry an amoral piece of trash, you're not going to have a lot of introspection about the choices that led you to that point.

What is Cheryl Hines thinking? Nothing, apparently:

“I am a good person!” this book seems to scream at us, without ever once grappling with the idea of how far individual morality can go when the totality of your life is built on a rotting foundation. What good after all, is one beautiful room in a house that is sinking into the sea?

The goal, of course, is to clear herself. To air her side of things. But what she does unintentionally is lay bare a narrative point of view of rarified and intentional ignorance. How can people blame me? she asks from her perch of bloodstained luxury.