"I need to call my dad," said Kirsten lazily, reveling in the comfort of the moment. They'd managed to move as far as the living room couch for the aftermath. Sandy groaned.

"You have to bring up your father now? Kirsten, baby, why?" She laughed slightly.

"I'll need to buy a dress for Jimmy's wedding."

"And you need his money to get one? Baby, we may not be the richest couple in Berkeley, but we've got enough money to buy a dress."

"Not for a Newport Beach wedding," she told him. "Prices are adjusted between your world—our world—and the Newport Beach world. What you'd pay for a car, Newpsies'd pay for a dress. And it's Jimmy's wedding. I'd have to be hopelessly in denial to think that people aren't going to be looking at me at least as much as they're looking at Julie's midriff."

"Ah, the Jimmy Cooper/Kirsten Nichol saga," said Sandy lightly but sarcastically. "Right…well, I've seen how many dresses you have way in the back of our closet. You can't wear one of those?"

"Sandy…" started Kirsten, and then she faltered. This would be hard to say. "Sandy, all the dresses from when I was a teenager? They scream 'Jimmy' to me and to everyone in Newport."

"I can't believe that. Not every dress." She half-smiled and stood up. He admired her mostly-naked body as she did so, and followed her as she went to their room.

"Now, this one," explained Kirsten as she held out a plain, strapless white dress, "was my cotillion dress. Jimmy was my escort." She carefully hung the dress back up and removed a peach silk minidress. "I was the junior class homecoming princess in this one…guess who took me to the dance?" The third dress was a strappy black one that would have hit her at the knees if she'd taken the time to put it on. "And this was my favorite casual dress. I wore it to so many parties and after-parties…" She shook her head, smiling slightly at the memories. Then she pulled out a floor-length royal blue satin gown, plain but striking and clearly breathtaking on her. "This was my junior prom dress. We probably don't have to get into that one."

Sandy wanted to say something, wanted to say that nobody would remember, but he knew he'd be lying. Kirsten would remember. Jimmy would remember. Caleb Nichol and Danielle Cooper would remember. He inhaled sharply as she pulled out a knee-length, ruffled, pink dress.

"I wore this to Marissa Cooper's wedding. She was Jimmy's older sister," she explained at Sandy's look of confusion. "I was a bridesmaid. And…well…I lost my virginity in this dress. Or, you know, shortly after I took it off. So it's a no." She was trying to be flippant, but it was getting harder given the pained looks on her husband's face.

"Do you understand now? Sandy, I love you so much…and every black-tie dress in the closet, except my wedding dress, says Jimmy…because the Newport Beach Kirsten was Jimmy's girlfriend, his armpiece. This Kirsten, the Kirsten I am now, the Kirsten I want to be? She's your wife, and hopelessly in love with you, but she doesn't have anything to wear to a Newport Beach wedding." He looked at her. He'd known she had a past when he met her—hell, he'd been engaged to another girl as well. Still, it hurt to have her document every fancy-dress experience she'd had with her ex-boyfriend. He was just glad she'd stopped before the senior prom; he wasn't strong enough yet to hear that story. He wanted to be her everything; he didn't need reminders that he'd arrived too late for her to only have memories of him.

"It's okay, baby. Go to your dad."

"I love you. And…I mean…it's all in the past, right? These dresses…they don't mean anything to me except memories of when I was a teenager. I'm a different person from when I was sixteen. And please don't forget," she added. "It was well within my prerogative to marry Jimmy, but I didn't. I love you more than I ever loved him; he's just…familiar…because I've known him longer."

"I understand," said Sandy, and she smiled.

"You're the most wonderful husband in the whole world," Kirsten cooed, dropping the pink dress to the floor and wrapping her arms around her husband. "Oh, Sandy. I love you so much." His arms came around her, and she smiled contentedly.

"I love you, too, Kirsten. You're the top…you're the Coliseum…you're the top…you're the Louvre museum…" She laughed at the Cole Porter.

"Always singing."

"It's who you married."

"I know, and I love it."