I had unequivocally been told to back off. They were becoming closer. I was informed I was not going to Sacramento and I understood that and there seemed to be strengthening in their relationship, almost like allies.
It all so contradictory. "You mother me too much. " "You haven't called me for a week." I have my own children and businesses and am always there in an hour of need -- as I was many a time even in an emergency. That is what a friend does, no questions asked. I know I am that three o'clock in the morning phone call to the people I include as friends. I also know in my heart that Ken and I had been incredibly supportive in many ways. I won't explain that. I don't need to count. If you count you will always be behind.
When we left that hotel, after Kim had been pretty abusive with no regret, we knew to stay or inform them that we were exhausted by the unrelenting accusations and wanted to leave it would result in an even more complicated scenario.
We looked at each other as we were going to bed, saddened by the day's events and decided to get the hell out of there -- to find the most glorious hotel on the island and vanish for a few days, to recover and lick my wounds. So that is what happened.
Ken had unfortunately developed an infection, potentially septicemia in his arm. We had to find an emergency doctor who came to us at the St Regis. He had his elbow lanced, intravenous antibiotics, and a course of treatment. I am sure when they discovered we weren't there in the morning, they all rejoiced in Puerto Rico that the witch was dead and some, who had orchestrated this attack, could now have center stage. . . That ultimately is what this is all about.