Diana was confused. It was as if she were bumbling and fumbling about in Plato's cave, discerning vague shadows (including her own) and not much else. Diana's fiction of herself was beginning to get shaky when confronted with the prospect of losing Adrian, coloring the past in all sorts of unexpected shades.
Diana may not have been able to discern much in Plato's cave, or wherever versions of reality are stored, but in her own bed she found a pair of hurriedly discarded bikini briefs, a pleasant shade of blue, obviously forgotten in Adrian's haste to leave. As she picked them up, noting a tell-tale spot in the front, she had no trouble imagining what usually filled them out. From there, her imagination wandered to how the briefs had gotten in her bed in the first place, and she got warm in all the right places. She still didn't know exactly where that fit in.