La Costa? Hell? You Make the Call.








Dropped Julie and the massage table off, then drove to La Costa.  What a mood (or should I say MOODS) I was in!  The meeting with Jaymie's dad had me amped into severe Royal Bitch mode.  I tied to take deep breaths to calm myself.  I was on my way to one of the most beautiful spas in California.  Thank God!  If I ever needed to de-stress...now was the time!

I trembled with anger, but in the same moment I wanted nothing more than to roll into a fetal position and sob like a baby.  How many times since DDay had I been subjected to fresh mental injury, additional heart crushing pain and pure, horrific humiliation?  More times that I cared to count.  I couldn't admit until months later that I could have avoided some of the trauma.  If I had treated Jaymie like the non-entity that she was, I would have found my path on my Road to Happy much sooner.
Oh, well...would've, could've, should've.

Pulled up to the valet.  Gave him my small suitcase and asked him to dump the room fragrance reeds, which were already open and stinking up my car, in the garbage.  I took the perfume and the bracelet with me.  Time to check in at the spa.

Richard pulled up to the valet right behind me, just in time to see the valet pitch the revolting reeds.  He told me later he didn't even remember buying those.
If you are a betrayed spouse, be prepared to hear these words relentlessly:
"I don't remember."  AND..."I don't know."
The aggravation caused from these responses is immeasurable, but there is a chance your wayward spouse is telling the truth.  They could also be stonewalling in a pathetic attempt to save their own asses, but MAYBE the guy was into the FOG so deep, much of the affair was dream like, therefore, difficult to recall.
How hard it was to allow for that possibility.  The frustration from the lack of details nearly ate away my sanity.

I didn't speak to Richard.  I barely looked at him.  He knew he was in for the absolute most miserable experience one could have at a fabulous resort. This visit to La Costa would not feel like the paradise of R&R I had come to expect.  It felt more like a visit to Hell.  Something to be avoided at all costs.  If I try to describe the whole La Costa experience to you, it will be redundant.  Suffice it to say, I was blatantly vicious to him for the next 24 hours.  I will share what happened to the swag.

The couples massage must have been so uncomfortable for the therapists!!  The tension in that room was as thick as Affair Fog!  If they could have read my aura, the color would have been basic black, with fire engine red around the border.  The lovely masseuse, that worked on me, commented more times than she should, about how tight my neck was.  Other than that, few words were spoken for 80 minutes.

I got out of the dressing room before Richard.  I went to the front desk to take care of the bill.  Instead of adding a 20% tip to the total, I reached into my purse and pulled out the velvet box containing the diamond and emerald bracelet.  I handed it to the young lady behind the counter and said, "Please give this to my therapist.  Tell her thank you and Merry Christmas."

I went outside for a cigarette.  Nothing like smoking at a spa!!  People LOVE that!  I doubt anyone would have been brave enough to ask me to stop.  I'm sure I looked crazed with my face tightened into a foul grimace.  I could have cared less what anybody thought about anything that day.  It was one of my worst days since DDay.  I felt so sorry for myself and that is NOT the way I roll.

We tried to talk.  We tried to reason.  We talked about the high school picture he gave Jaymie.  Richard could see how disgusted I was with all of it.  He explained about the picture.  He said it proved how desperate he was for his lost youth and why that was such a huge part of why he cheated.

But, truly, none of the limited conversation was productive.  I was just too angry, too hurt.  I do remember saying, numerous times, "I can't do this."  By the time we walked to our room for the night, Richard looked like he wanted to slash his own throat.  In my mind's eye, I imagined doing it for him. This little date night couldn't end quickly enough.

We rose early because we barely slept.  In silence, we packed to leave way before check out time.  Along with a ten dollar bill, I left a little something extra on the pillow for the housekeeper.  The barely used bottle of Dolce perfume with a note:
"I didn't forget this.  I left it.  Please feel free to enjoy it or toss it at your discretion."

Back out to the valet and into our cars.  I left for home first, Richard followed me.  I remember wishing he wouldn't.