She dashed to the door, then turned, dripping, to wave as she let herself in.
Then, alone in the quiet, she leaned back on the door and indulged herself. She’d made love
with Del. She’d slept in his bed, awakened beside him. A lifetime of dreams had come true in
one night, so she was allowed to indulge herself in private, to grin like a maniac, hug herself,
and feel utterly, foolishly wonderful.
Nothing she’d imagined had come close to those moments, and here alone in the quiet she
could revel in them. She could remember each one and savor it.