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I recalled waking up sometime in the middle of the night, intending to go home, when Diane grasped my hand and whispered for me to stay. The next time I woke, Diane stood in a duster offering me a cup of coffee. “I hope you like it black. I don’t have cream or sugar.”
“Black’s fine,” I said, scooting up and sitting.
She sat on the edge of the bed and flashed a Cheshire smile. “Thank you for last night. It’s been at least fifteen years since I slept with someone other than Bill. And it was wonderful!”
I grinned. “Yes, it was. Wonderful and totally unexpected.”
“That was rather impulsive of me,” she said, blushing. “I convinced myself that I might not get another chance.”
“I didn’t take you for an opportunist.”
“I surprised myself. Who knows what else I may discover about myself. A
