Page 44 of The Yes Factor

We sit in silence, although both of our wheels are turning at breakneck speed.

“There’s still so much of me tied up in Ethan. I know I deserve to be treated better. But it’s like, I’m waiting for him to leave me. Like that will somehow make it easier.”

I try to process what she’s saying. I can’t judge because that’s pretty much how I felt about my relationship with Patrick. It was easier for me to be the victim than for me to take control of my own happiness. Until I did.

Jesus, what a web we weave for ourselves.

* * *

Having washed the mud off, we’re back to our previously pasty selves as we settle into the sulfur hot springs with a final glass of wine. The smell of rotten eggs may not be my standard aromatherapy go-to, but all five senses are now relaxed.

Liv holds her glass up to the light and releases a satisfied sigh. “Ahh, detox and retox. Story of my life.”

We both laugh and look around at the dwindling crowd, surveying the bodies of the other women. Isn’t it something all women do without even really being aware of it? I know it’s terrible, and I’m not judging, but I can’t help but compare myself to everyone else around me. The lady in the pink tankini has a perfect butt, not a dimple of cellulite, but that tankini is covering a tummy that’s just a little too pouchy. A young woman with fake boobs and too much lip filler has actually made herself look older than she probably is. I look at my own body and make a mental list of the many things I want to change (thighs, lank hair, age spots on my chest) but being in the midst of these different shapes and sizes, I give myself a break from it and acknowledge that nobody is perfect. We’re all doing the best that we can.

“Listen, I know you’ll make the right decision,” I say.

She groans. “Can we talk about something else? Like Charlie Hunnam’s hot bod? Or more importantly, can we find any good gumbo in LA?”

“Look, one last thing, and then we can definitely talk gumbo.” I pause to summarize my thoughts. “Leaving is hard, but staying is harder. I know that firsthand. I just want you to be happy.” She rolls her eyes at that. “I do! You deserve love and respect and all the best things. I’m here for you.”

Liv looks me in the eye. “What do you think I should do? Troof.”

Giving someone relationship advice is tricky. The only people that really know what’s going on in the relationship are the two people in it. Only they know the ins and outs, the good and the bad, what they can or can’t live with. But I do know Liv.

“Leave his ass.” I dunk my head under the hot water, holding my wineglass aloft so it doesn’t spill, not wanting to hear what Liv might say in response to my no holds barred troof.

* * *

Driving home against traffic is always a delightful feeling. I’m stone-cold sober since I stopped drinking a couple of hours ago, but Liv is living up to her name and living in the passenger seat with the windows rolled down, a big smile on her face and sing-yelling at the top of her lungs “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.”

“I want to be the one to walk in the sun!” I look at her and feel bittersweet hope as she belts out those words. The mourning of the past and the optimism for the future. It’s how I feel right now, too. Sad about the lost dream of my marriage, no matter how long ago it was, but hopeful for better things ahead.

Sometimes, when I drop Maddie off at Patrick’s house, I wonder if we were right to divorce. There were so many good things about Patrick. Did I try hard enough? Maybe we should have gone to therapy, put our egos aside and given it a solid go. Gone the distance for the sake of Maddie. Maybe I was selfish. Maybe I thought I deserved more. Because I didn’t fight for my marriage, I just walked away in defeat. And, sadly, I still feel that way after all these years. Yes, I have guilt, but more than that there’s a sadness in me that’s holding me back from opening up to someone new. Until Liv showed up, I hadn’t put any energy into my own heart, let alone out into the world. I’ve been closed off, defensive, and solitary. I’ve found joy in Maddie, but she is not and should not be my whole world. I know it isn’t healthy and looking at Liv singing with her eyes squeezed tight gives me a feeling that I haven’t felt in a long time.

When the song ends, Liv turns to me excitedly. “What’s next, Ms. DJ?”

Ahead, I see the beautiful glow of the In-N-Out sign calling my name.

“Well, I think it’s time you get yourself a Cheeseburger of your own!” I blast Jimmy Buffett’s “Cheeseburger in Paradise” just to bring my point home.

* * *

I lurch the car into the driveway after our intense but refreshing day at the spa, only a little sunburned and savoring that wonderful paradox of exhaustion that comes from a day of relaxing. The wine under a hot sun and in even hotter mud and water has made me groggy. And the barebones discussion of everything going on between Ethan and Liv has tired out the both of us.

“I’m so ready to—”

“Get into sweats and hibernate?” Liv finishes my sentence.

“Yes! What should we do, Bridesmaids or Dirty Dancing?”

“Is that even a question?” Liv gives me a “seriously” look as she gets the last of our bags out of the back seat, slams the car door shut with her hip then does a little Baby dancing on the bridge as she sings the words from “Love Is Strange,” “How do you call your lover boy?”

Chapter Fifteen

Dubai, Darling

LIV

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