Page 43 of The Yes Factor

Sunny Dale Hot Springs isn’t too crowded since it’s a Thursday. The deck area is dotted with clusters of mostly older women in bathrobes, enjoying the California sunshine and more importantly the California wine. Fortunately, there are very few men in sight. After the surprise call from The Weeper and the chaos of the last few days, I’m perfectly content spending a day without men. The mineral baths, sulfur springs, and special mud are the body and soul cleansing that I need.

“Guru Stan, would be proud of how Zen we are right now!” I laugh.

Liv smirks and the mud cracks along her laugh lines. “Yeah, although I’m not sure he’d approve of the wine. As over the top as that place was, I wish I could find something similar in London. I was thinking maybe Ethan and I could start doing yoga together on Sunday mornings. He doesn’t want to go to counseling anymore, but maybe yoga would help us. If he were ever around.” She mutters that last part under her breath.

And there’s my cue. I dive right in.

“Speaking of.” I pause to see if she’ll open up without any further prodding. She doesn’t. “Ethan,” I say definitively. “Spill. Troof.”

Ever since our obsession with Da Ali G Show in the early 2000s, we picked up his exaggerated way of saying truth and ran with it.

Liv rolls on her side to face me, her eyes open, looking like two oyster pearls nestled in Dauphin Island, Alabama clay. “Troof? I don’t know.”

Slightly frustrated, the need to call her out gets the better of me. “You know. Talk it out.” I wave my hand to encourage her to continue.

Taking another sip of icy liquid courage, she says, “I know from the outside it seems like I have this great life and everything. Living in London, a successful husband, my so-called ‘glamorous job,’ but, I’m miserable. I don’t think I can move past his cheating. I feel like I just don’t have the energy to keep up with the charade any longer.”

I reach down to adjust my forest green bikini bottoms and inadvertently reveal a bit of skin that’s so white I immediately smear it with mud so I don’t blind myself, or anyone else.

“I just feel so ignored.” Sip. “Invisible.” Sip. “Insecure.” Sip. “Unlovable.” Sip. “Under sexed.” Gulp.

Of course, I hate hearing my best friend say these words and I want to comfort her, but doesn’t every woman feel these things at some point? Could this just be the cycle of the relationship? My grandmother always said, “This too shall pass.” Maybe it will pass? But, before I can respond, she says, “It’s been this way for nearly seven years.”

“Wait, you’ve been married for nine!” I do the math in my head.

“Things have never really gelled with us. Like, round peg, square hole kind of situation. We just don’t fit. I’ve tried and tried for years. Talking about it. Not talking about it. When I got on the flight here, I was ready to give up. That little dalliance with Francois boosted my confidence. I was on the plane thinking I was going to see how fun and amazing being single is.” I cough mid-drink at Liv’s naivete. “And now I’m seeing it’s just kind of…pathetic.” Liv almost whispers the last word.

“Oh, wow. Thanks.” Well, I asked for the troof and I got it.

“Now I’m thinking, maybe I should just go back and try to make it work, no matter what. Everyone has affairs, don’t they?” She sounds so non-committal and depressed. So unlike her.

“Okay, I’m playing devil’s advocate here, but maybe y’all are in a slump? All the things you said are shitty, really shitty. But maybe they can be worked through. Talked out. Maybe beg him to stay in therapy? You and Ethan fell in love for a reason. Can you get back to the beginning? Do you remember the beginning?” She gives me a muddy side eye. “Ethan’s affair in France was probably a onetime thing. Like, maybe he’s a vegetarian now and doesn’t like cheeseburgers anymore.” It’s the best analogy I could come up with on the fly.

Liv doesn’t move. Doesn’t even blink. Doesn’t even lift the glass to her lips for a final sip. I expected her to at least crack another mud smile at my lame attempt at a joke, but nada. The weight of her silence is a heavy blanket over my whole body. In the suddenly oppressive stillness I say in a barely-there voice, “It was a onetime thing, right?”

She nervously winds her fingers around the tie strings of her bikini bottom. “Well, I don’t know for sure. I found out that he had an Ashley Madison account.” She mistakes my gasp for a sound of confusion. “You know, that website where married people have affairs.” I’m nodding my head slowly, taking this all in. “When their site was hacked a while ago, I looked through the data and found the last four of his credit card number alongside our post code.”

I’m wide eyed with disbelief. “Is that how he met the woman in France?”

“Probably.”

I lean in to her more closely. “So, you don’t trust him.” It’s a statement, not a question.

“No. I don’t. In a weird way, it kinda made me feel better when I found out he has this double life. Like the past suddenly made sense. It put all his late nights, last-minute travel plans, and his emotional distance into perspective. Not to mention all the ridiculous gifts he’s brought home to me.”

“The puzzle pieces all fell into place,” I say with understanding.

Her fingers stop their fidgeting. “Exactly. That knowledge should give me the freedom to think about my own decisions, to try to understand what I want. But I just seem stuck. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“And what do you want?” I look over at my friend and see the strength and vulnerability warring within her as she tilts her head up to the clear blue California sky, closes her eyes, and exhales. “Why didn’t you just leave him?”

“Do you know how many times I’ve asked myself that? I’ve thought through all of my exit strategies, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. It feels so complicated.”

“But why? If he’s been cheating on you repeatedly, what is complicated about that? You deserve better!” I say indignantly.

“Do I? This life with Ethan is so much better than my life growing up, my mom and dad barely being able to cover the bills. I always wanted to escape, and I’ve done that with Ethan. This is the life I’ve always wanted.” She pauses. “Or that I thought I wanted.”

“But, Liv, your parents loved each other. Who cares about the rest of it?”

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