EX Dream Before Sleep

Time rewinds a little.

Before I told Black Widow about my decision.
Before the day I had to choose…

The night before.

At a park in Queens, sitting together on a bench, talking.

That’s how far we rewind.

"Well, something like that… um—"

Peter strings together his words.

Stories about me that I don’t remember.
Memories of me that only Peter knows.

And yet, listening to them, I could believe it. If I had been there, I would have acted just like that.

I didn’t doubt him—it just made sense. The stories Peter told were the truth.

And those memories… they were so—

Yes, to me, they were so—

"…I’m jealous."

That’s how it sounded.

"Michelle?"

Peter tilted his head at the words I muttered under my breath.

"…It’s nothing."

I forced an awkward smile and shook my head.

Who was I jealous of?
Not Peter.

Myself.
More precisely, the “me” that lived inside Peter’s memories, the me I no longer knew.

I looked at Peter’s face.
Scratching his cheek, he wore a puzzled expression.

A mix of dignity and kindness… and just a hint of timidity.

He wasn’t exactly cheerful—rather, he had a quiet personality.

From his stories, he seemed timid in social matters… but when it came to helping others, he was brave.

Unreliable, yet truly reliable.
A person who carried both contradictions within him.

"…D-did I say something weird?"

Seeing him fluster like that made me feel amused.
Not because teasing him was fun… but because it made him dear to me.

To catch these little expressions he didn’t even realize he was showing—that made me unbearably happy.

"No, it’s fine. Tell me more, please."

I smiled as I said it.

From the start, I had feelings for Spider-Man—no, for Peter Parker.
At first, they were just the admiration one has for a comic-book hero.

But after actually meeting him… after learning his devotion… I was certain.
I had loved him.

Even now, even with my lost memories.

Listening to his stories… I found myself drawn to him all over again.

The old me, and the me now.
Even without memories, my core hadn’t changed.

Both versions of me… loved him.

That’s why I was jealous.
Jealous of every encounter, every moment with him that I couldn’t remember.

I traced my lips with a fingertip.

Even the sensation of our kiss… I couldn’t recall.
And that, too, I envied.

Perhaps Peter saw my unconscious gesture—his face reddened.
I felt a little embarrassed myself.

Still, even while envying the me who existed before I lost my memories, there was one thing about her worth admiring.

And that was—

That she had become his girlfriend.

Peter never once said we were dating. But… we kissed. Twice.

Twice.

Without a doubt, we had been together.
We had gone on dates, many times.

Otherwise, with how shy we both were, it would’ve been impossible.
There’s no way it could have been anything else.

So yes—Peter and I were dating.
There was no mistaking it.

"…Yeah."

As I nodded to myself, Peter seemed to notice something and pulled his phone from his pocket.

A model a couple of generations behind the latest.

He pressed a button, and the time lit up on the screen.

It was nearly midnight.

"Michelle, where are you living right now?"

"…Manhattan. Why?"

I answered.

"This late… yeah, I’ll walk you home. It’s already really late—you should head back."

Peter stood up from the bench as he said it.
He was right—it was late.

Manhattan and Queens may be neighbors, but the distance was still considerable.
And considering the safety of New York at night, him walking me home was definitely the right call.

At least… if I were just any ordinary woman.

"I’m fine on my own, though?"

But I’m no ordinary woman.
I wouldn’t lose to cowards who’d try to assault someone at night.

What I did worry about was Peter having to make the long round trip. I wanted to spare him that.

Peter must have caught on to my thoughts, because he gave a wry smile.

"No, no, you don’t have to hold back."

"But then you’ll be getting home late, Peter."

"I don’t mind."

He said he didn’t mind… but I did.

So, I tugged at the hem of Peter’s shirt as he stood.

"Then… Peter."

"Michelle…?"

"I want to talk a little longer."

"But, it’s already late…"

I gave him a faint smile.

"Peter, you live in Queens. Right?"

"Uh, yeah… that’s true, but…?"

Exactly as I thought.
So I finally spoke the words I’d been holding back.

"Let me stay over."

"Stay… what?"

"Tonight, at your place… let me stay over."

With a normal guy, I would’ve held back.
I’d worry about what he might try, and it’d put him in an awkward spot too.

But Peter was different.
Because we were lovers.

So sharing a room, sleeping together—that was normal.

"A-ah, but…"

Peter faltered.
I narrowed my eyes.

…Maybe it really was a burden, having someone suddenly invite themselves over.

"…Sorry. That was selfish of me."

I’d misjudged the distance between us.
But can you blame me?
I don’t remember anything.

A faint pang of self-loathing.
The words I hurled at myself echoed in my heart.

As I sat in that reflection—

"N-no, it’s not selfish. Really, it’s fine…"

Peter forced a smile for me. Then added,

"You can stay over. You won’t be bothering me at all."

"…Mm, thank you. I’m glad."

I let out a relieved sigh.
For a moment I’d worried I’d made him uncomfortable.

But he forgave me with a smile.

As he stood, Peter’s hand brushed against me.
Startled, I reflexively pulled back.

"Ah…"

That sound escaped—whether from me or him, I wasn’t sure. Maybe both.

A little.
Just a little.
The moment felt awkward as I stood and met his eyes.

Peter glanced away, just slightly.
The reason he’d touched me—it must have been—

"Peter."

I took his hand in mine.

This was what it meant.
We must have always held hands, back then.
For girlfriends, that wouldn’t be strange.

That’s why Peter seemed hurt when I pulled away.

"…Shall we go?"

I didn’t dislike holding his hand.
If anything… no, it made me happy.

His hand was unlike mine—bony, rough in places, yet slender.
And still, the touch was gentle.

"…Yeah, let’s go, Michelle."

As though I were something fragile, he gently squeezed my hand in return.

If something as simple as holding hands could fill me with this much joy… then happiness truly could come from the smallest things.

I was easily pleased.

But that was fine.

The empty space in my chest was being filled.
That’s how it felt.

---

New York.

Queens.

Peter’s room.

Peter flicked up the small lever switch on the wall. With a click, the light came on.

The walls… had some noticeable black smudges. Maybe from furniture being scraped against them?

Here and there, the floor creaked depending on where you stepped.

The light overhead wasn’t LED, but an old incandescent bulb.

"Uh… for now, you can sit on the bed if you want."

"Y-yeah…"

I was a little more shocked than I’d expected by… well, how shabby the room looked. More so than the apartment I used to live in.

Peter had said he’d lived next door back then. Which meant his living conditions should’ve been the same as mine. …But seeing this, it was clearly worse now.

And that was… because of me. My hand pressed against my chest.

"…Michelle?"

Peter looked at me with concern.

I live now in an apartment built by the Stark family. Not exactly luxurious, but still a very good life. I even receive money… despite not having a job. I never have to worry about food… I’m given more than enough that even a little wasteful spending isn’t an issue.

And yet.

From the look of things, Peter… doesn’t live nearly as well.

I’m the one who was saved, living without a care. While the one who saved me… has to live like this.

"…………"

My heart creaked. Like this room’s floorboards, making noise. Playing a discordant tune.

Like this… I—

"Michelle."

Peter placed a hand on my shoulder. He looked straight into my face.

"So, are you okay?"

I’m the one who should be asking that.

"Peter… aren’t you… struggling?"

At my words, Peter tilted his head.

"Uh, what do you mean… exactly?"

"Well…"

As I glanced around the room, Peter seemed to catch on, giving a wry smile.

"Yeah, I guess it’s a little run-down."

"…Peter, I—"

"But no, it’s really not hard at all."

Peter denied it. Even though that couldn’t possibly be true.

His cheeks relaxed into a smile.

Before I realized it—

"…Peter, thank you."

I offered him words of gratitude. Surely, he wouldn’t want me to drown in guilt. After all, for my sake, he’d kept quiet about my memories for this whole month.

So, what I can do isn’t blaming myself. It’s caring for him, giving him a sense of happiness… That’s all.

And if it’s for that—

Anything.

If it’s something I can give—

"Peter, can I borrow the sink?"

"Of course."

I rose from the bed and walked toward the sink. Taking my pouch in hand… I removed my makeup. The reflection in the mirror showed me with a slightly uneasy face.

Exhaling deeply, I looked down at the cup placed by the sink. A plain white cup.

Inside it was a single toothbrush.

Leaving the sink, I peeked back toward Peter.

"Peter… um, do you have a spare toothbrush or something?"

"Huh? Oh—yeah, I do."

Peter, who had been tidying the bed, came over to the sink.

He stretched up to open the shelf above. Standing tall, right in front of me.

I found myself looking up at Peter’s face. …Yes, looking up.

He’s at least ten centimeters taller than me. Peter isn’t exactly tall, not by comparison.

But between a man and a woman… that difference hit me. I felt a little overwhelmed.

"Here, this one."

He unwrapped the packaged toothbrush and handed it to me.

"…Thanks. How much—"

"It’s fine. It’s cheap."

Saying that with a smile, he stepped away. He left the bathroom so I wouldn’t feel embarrassed.

I took the toothbrush in hand. My eyes flicked toward the door behind me.

Using the toothpaste from the cup, I brushed my teeth. I picked up the cup, my gaze tracing the rim.

Peter’s mouth came to mind… and I quickly set the cup back down on the sink.

I scooped water into my mouth with my hand, rinsed, and spat it out.

Holding the toothbrush, I hesitated a little… then set it in the cup.

Two toothbrushes of different colors now rested together inside, almost like they were nestled side by side.

That sight made me smile faintly… before I stepped out through the door.

"Thanks, Peter."

I spoke words of gratitude to Peter, who had been tidying the bed.

"Hm…? Sure, you’re welcome?"

Maybe it was strange for him to be thanked for something he thought of as obvious—Peter tilted his head while nodding.

That simple gesture warmed my chest.

He’s kind. Hopelessly kind.

He never asks for thanks. Never expects anything in return. It’s kindness, given freely.

But still… I want to give something back. My gratitude, in words, in action… anything I can.

Through what I do, through how I feel… even with my body.

My heartbeat quickened.

Peter stepped away from the bed and looked at me.

"So, tonight you’ll be sleeping here… Sorry about it, though. It’s a little—no, pretty run-down."

"No, really, thank you."

I slipped off my jacket, and Peter naturally took it from me. He hung it up, then brought me a towel.

When I sat down on the bed, Peter took a seat in the chair at his desk.

…That made me tilt my head.

"Peter, where are you going to sleep?"

"Huh? Here… I guess."

I couldn’t help but stare blankly.

"You’re not sleeping in the bed?"

"There’s only one, so…"

At those words, I blinked again in surprise. I realized I had misunderstood when he’d guided me toward the bed earlier.

"Peter… aren’t you going to sleep here too?"

I lightly patted the blanket.

Yes. I had… intended to share the bed with Peter. Because that’s what a ‘girlfriend’ would normally do. I was sure of it—I’d seen it in romance movies.

Not just sleeping together—if he wanted more, then—

"…Huh?"

So when Peter looked flustered, I felt a sense of wrongness.

"Peter?"

"I-I don’t think that’s a good idea." His eyes darted about the room as he spoke.

"Why not?"

"W-why not… because…"

I blinked. My doubt turned into words.

"I mean, if we’re ‘lovers,’ isn’t that normal…?"

That’s what I said.

Peter froze. His expression locked in surprise.

His lips trembled, and with effort, he finally managed to form words.

"Uh, Michelle?"

"…What is it?"

"Who exactly… are the ‘lovers’ you’re talking about?"

"That’s—"

I answered with full confidence.

"Peter and me."

Peter choked. From this close, I could see him trembling.

When I looked up at him, his expression was one of distress.

"Uh, Michelle?"

"What?"

I tilted my head, not understanding what had him so troubled.

"Well… you and I, we’re, um—"

"Me and you are… what?"

Peter hesitated for a moment, then let out a deep sigh. And then—

"We’re not… actually ‘lovers.’"

That’s what he said.

"Eh?"

A storm of question marks filled my head.

"I mean, um… we’re not dating, Michelle."

What?

Huh? What?

What do you mean?

My heart twisted into knots. My thoughts short-circuited.

I couldn’t process it.

"B-but Peter, we—we kissed, didn’t we…?"

"Even so… it’s, um, not like that."

My thoughts gradually started piecing themselves back together… and at the same time, my face began to burn.

W-wait, I kissed a boy I wasn’t even dating? Doesn’t that make me… cheap?

As that thought hit me, I forced myself to look at the situation objectively.

I barged into the room of a boy who wasn’t even my boyfriend. Then tried to invite him into bed.

"Uh… ah…"

What a terrible girl.

It was mortifying. My cheeks grew hotter.

The feelings I’d held for him—having to realize they were one-sided—made me want to run away from here.

"P-Peter. I-I’m sorry. I’ll just… I’ll go home now."

I staggered as I tried to stand—

"Hey, Michelle, wait."

Peter grabbed my shoulder, stopping me. My heart pounded wildly.

Shame and affection mixed together, turning my face red.

"P-Peter…"

The voice that came out of me surprised even myself with how pitiful it sounded.

It trembled, weak, and cracked.

"Michelle…"

"I-I… I made such a stupid mistake… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I must’ve been nothing but a burden, and I—"

"You’re not a burden."

I lifted my gaze to Peter. His expression wasn’t troubled anymore.

Instead, it was… resolute.

I thought I could almost hear the sound of my own heartbeat.

"Peter…"

"I’ve never once thought of you as a burden."

Even if I don’t remember it.

Even though I hurt his body? Even though I tore his heart apart? Even though I stole his place?

Even so──

"Don’t worry, so don’t blame yourself that much."

Peter’s hand took hold of mine. …This feeling—I don’t remember it, but… it was so warm, so comforting. I felt safe.

"Come on, take a deep breath."

I inhaled… exhaled. The trembling in my throat, the loosening tears in my eyes, little by little began to settle down.

"…Peter."

My voice wasn’t trembling anymore.

"I… Peter, I… I l–love you."

"…Yeah. I love you too, Michelle."

We confirmed each other’s feelings.

"U-um, I… with Peter… I… well…"

The next words, the words, the words… wouldn’t come out from the back of my throat. Seeing me struggle like that, Peter gave a faint smile.

"Michelle?"

"Y-yeah…"

I gave such a weird reply. But Peter didn’t laugh at me. He was looking at me with serious eyes.

"Because I love you, Michelle…"

"Y-yeah."

"Even being treated like a 『lover』… even if it made me happy, I’d never think of it as a bother."

"…Y-yeah."

Our eyes met. Peter’s expression was calm, but he seemed just a little tense.

"That’s why—I’ll say it. Michelle, I have… a request."

In Peter’s eyes, I saw myself, face completely red.

"I want you to make me… your 『lover』."

Those words turned the earlier misunderstanding into reality. I had to answer. I had to, I had to—

"…Mm."

So softly, really softly, I nodded while looking down. Thinking he might not have heard me, I regretted it for a second, but when I looked at him… Peter looked relieved.

And then, just like that──

I was embraced.

Gently, yet firmly.

I felt Peter’s warmth, his scent, his solidity, his heartbeat.

"Thank you, Michelle."

"…P-Peter?"

I didn’t understand why he was thanking me.

"Thank you."

Even so, Peter continued his words of gratitude.

I…

Me too.

I hugged him back. Wrapped my arms around him, pressing closer.

Yes. I could feel his warmth even more. I could feel his heartbeat even more.

He’s here. I know it.

After a little while.

I didn’t even know how long we had stayed like that, holding each other.

Even so, time passed.

Peter released me.

The sensation of him moving away left me with a faint longing.

Peter gave a crinkled smile.

"…Honestly, I wanted to confess in a more romantic place."

At those words, my eyebrows sank a little.

"S-sorry…"

"No, it was just my selfishness… it’s fine. Besides, no matter where I confess… I’m sure this happiness won’t change."

Saying that, he smiled.

I no longer had any thought of leaving. Guided by Peter, I was seated back onto the bed where we had been before.

"…Peter too."

"Ah, um… yeah."

Peter sat down beside me.

Nerves made my heart pound.

Even before, in moments where my life was in danger, my heart had raced.

But this pounding wasn’t unpleasant.

Thump-thump, it beat.

Ah, in romance manga, when they use the sound effect "doki-doki," I always thought it was exaggerated. But it was real.

Truly, my heart was beating so loudly.

I laid my hand over the one Peter had placed down.

Drifting in the haze of love, my thoughts grew drowsy. I couldn’t think clearly anymore. But that was fine. That was good.

If I were sober, I could never do something like this.

"B-but, um, I’m gonna… change into pajamas…"

Maybe unable to take it anymore, Peter tried to move away from me.

"Peter, I don’t… have pajamas with me, but… do you have something like an oversized shirt?"

I asked that as I stood up.

"Ah, I do."

"Can I borrow one?"

"…Sure."

Peter took a shirt out of his closet. I accepted it and looked at it.

Triangles and squares, geometric shapes lined up.

The Pythagorean theorem. A white shirt with it diagrammed on the front. …Seriously uncool.

But it was definitely big. While Peter rummaged in the closet, I decided to put it on.

I unzipped the clothes I was wearing and draped them over a chair. At the sound of fabric sliding, Peter’s movements in the closet froze.

…Ah.

He must have realized I was changing, and was making sure not to turn around.

…It wouldn’t really matter if he looked, though. After all, we really are… 『lovers』 now.

I pulled the shirt over my head and—yeah, it was big. Just its length alone made it like a mini-skirt.

…Right. No need for a skirt with this. I didn’t want to wrinkle it by sleeping in it anyway.

I unbuttoned my skirt and hung it over the chair as well.

"Peter, it’s fine now."

When I called out, Peter let out a breath of relief and turned around—

Then froze when he saw me.

"M-Michelle, your bottom—where’s your bottom!?"

Bottom?

…Ah, he means the skirt.

"It’s fine, I’m still wearing underwear."

"T-that’s not the point… huh? Am I the weird one here?"

Peter looked away from me in confusion, hand over his mouth, refusing to look back at me.

"Since we’re 『lovers』, it’s not a big deal if you see me in just underwear… right?"

More than anything, I didn’t want weird wrinkles in the skirt. Gwen had picked that outfit out for me.

"I-I guess… is it…?"

"Yeah."

"I see… or, maybe not?"

Watching Peter muttering to himself, I smiled.

In the end, Peter resigned himself and didn’t say anything more. But when speaking with me, he seemed careful not to lower his gaze.

Both of us changed into pajamas… and returned to bed.

We turned off the light, facing away from each other, and slid under the blanket.

Peter’s bed wasn’t particularly large. It was meant for one person.

So when two people got in, of course, we ended up pressed close together.

Not by design, but naturally, we lay back-to-back. Too embarrassed to face each other directly.

I had thought I’d ask him about things from before I lost my memories, but… that wasn’t possible now. Peter seemed to be thinking the same thing.

We simply stayed quiet… lying there, backs touching.

Our bare feet brushed, and Peter twitched.

We shared the small blanket. Careful not to pull it away, pressed close so neither of us slipped out.

I could hear Peter breathing. So surely, he could hear mine too.

…It would be fine if we just stayed like this forever.

But still, I opened my mouth.

"Peter… could we talk just a little longer?"

Yes, I asked.

"…It’s fine, if you want to talk, Michelle."

Yes, he answered.

Relieved, I began to speak in a small voice.

"…I’m grateful to you, Peter."

"…I see."

"Because you saved me… you’re my lifesaver…"

"You don’t need to think about that…"

He really acted like it was nothing, and I gave a wry smile.

"…But I… want to repay you, Peter."

"…You’ve already given me more than enough."

"Even if you think so, I… still want to give back more."

Moonlight filtered into the room. The thin, white, yellowed lace curtains couldn’t block it out.

I opened my mouth.

"I want to introduce you to Ned, Harry, and Gwen too."

"…That…"

"If you think they won’t believe the story about the past… then I’ll just say you’re my friend. We can start over, and be friends again…"

"…Thank you."

Peter accepted my suggestion. Relieved, I let out a deep breath.

And then, he spoke to me.

"Michelle… you always help me."

"…I don’t remember, though."

"Even so. I’m sure your nature hasn’t changed…"

"Do you think so…?"

"I know it."

If my existence could be a help to someone… that was something to be happy about. For someone like me, who thought I only ever caused trouble for others──

"Peter."

"Yeah?"

"I’ve always admired you…"

"…Yeah."

Admiration for a hero in comics. For a hero who could save others even at the cost of himself. Admiration for a strong, kind hero.

I always vaguely thought, if only I could become like that. The same kind of distant admiration people might feel for a soccer player, or a baseball player, or an idol—something that felt apart from me.

But──

"I want to become someone worthy… of standing by your side."

"…You already are, even now."

"I can’t accept that. I… so──"

The words slipped out quietly.

"I want to become a hero too… even if my heart can’t reach it, at least in my actions… I want to take responsibility, and help people."

"…I see."

A moment of silence followed. I was afraid he might deny me… and I closed my eyes.

Then Peter spoke.

"…I’ll support you."

"…Peter."

"I honestly don’t want you to fight anymore. But… if it’s what you want to do, then I’ll support you."

He said it so gently. My eyes grew wet, my tear ducts loosening.

"…Peter."

"…Yeah."

"…You know, I…"

"Yeah."

I wiped my eyes with my arm so I wouldn’t soak the blanket.

"I’m glad… I was born into this world."

At last… I could think that.

Even though so many painful things had happened, right now I was truly happy.

"…Me too. I’m glad you’re here, Michelle."

I rolled over, reaching out toward Peter’s back.

I wrapped my arms around the back broader than mine.

My consciousness sank into drowsiness. Into gentle darkness.

What I saw here, what I touched here—so it wouldn’t vanish even after I fell asleep, I held him tightly.

And I… surrendered myself to this happiness… and let go of consciousness.

---

Morning. Manhattan. My apartment building. Its entrance.

I unlocked the front door with the shared key.

Walking through the breezy hallway, feeling the wind… I went deeper inside.

I inhaled deeply, then exhaled.

Opening my phone… the name "Peter Parker" appeared in my contacts. I couldn’t help but smile.

After confirming the mailbox was empty, I passed by the shared kitchen.

…Then, I stopped.

Someone was there.

A small figure… no, not a person.

"Cosmo?"

It was a dog.
A dog wearing a spacesuit.
The breed… a retriever.

The dog named Cosmo turned back to look at me.

『Ah, Michelle. Perfect timing—you’re back.』

A voice, like that of a boy before puberty, echoed directly in my head.

"Something wrong?"

I stepped into the kitchen and stood next to Cosmo.

Cosmo… was a dog with psychic powers. Back when humanity was frenzied with space exploration, he had been launched into space and went missing. Bathed in cosmic energy, Cosmo had gained superpowers.

With those abilities, he became the chief of security at the massive space station "Knowhere." He was actually quite an important dog.

But… for reasons I didn’t know, he was living here now. In the same apartment building as me—resident, or maybe, resident dog.

『I need you to grab the cereal from the top shelf.』

"Sure. But couldn’t you just use your telekinesis to get it?"

I opened the cupboard and took down a box of cereal.

Cosmo wasn’t literally speaking human words. He was projecting his thoughts directly into my brain through telepathy.

『’Cause it’s a pain.』

"…Well, I don’t mind."

I opened the box, grabbed a bowl, and poured the cereal in.

"Milk?"

『Oh, thoughtful! Of course I want milk.』

I poured in the milk and set the bowl on the floor. No spoon—he ate it straight.

『Yes! Thanks.』

"You’re welcome."

Watching Cosmo dig in noisily, I poured myself some milk in a glass. I took a sip.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Cosmo looking at me.

『Where were you, Michelle?』

"Hm? Well… uh…"

I didn’t know how to answer and hesitated. Cosmo leaned close and sniffed me.

『…Hmm. A man’s scent.』

"Ah, yeah. I guess… at my boyfriend’s place."

At that, Cosmo looked genuinely surprised.

『Huh? You had a mate all this time? …Wow.』

His voice rang directly in my head, and I gave a wry smile.

"…Clean up after yourself, okay?"

『Yeah, I can manage that. Heading back to your room?』

"I’ve got plans today."

『Plans?』

Cosmo tilted his head. …The cuteness made me want to ruffle his fur.

"I need to talk with S.H.I.E.L.D."

『…Michelle, are you leaving here?』

He let out a small whimper.

"No. I’m sure I’ll still be staying here for a while."

『Good. I’d hate to lose one of my servants.』

He joked. I laughed as I left the kitchen.

First, I needed to change clothes… and grab a shower too.

I headed toward my room.

---

New York, Manhattan.

I used the spare key to enter the apartment building.

『Ah, Harry.』

Hearing myself called, I lowered my gaze.
A dog… no, Cosmo.

"Hey, Cosmo."

『Here to see Michelle?』

He asked.

"Yeah. Today I’m escorting her to the Avengers Tower."

『Hmm? But she just got back a moment ago.』

At those words, I tilted my head.

"Got back? This morning?"

『Yeah. Seems she stayed over at her boyfriend’s place.』

…

"…What?"

The shock hit me so hard, it felt like my brain had been shattered.