It was all just a nightmare.

You jolt awake to the sound of your own scream, your heart racing in your chest. The room is dark, and for a brief moment, you think it's all real. But as your vision clears, you see Amy's concerned face hovering above you. "Babe, you okay?" she whispers, her eyes filled with genuine worry. You realize you're on the living room floor, the coffee table righted, no sign of the sexcapades that never was. "It was just a nightmare," you murmur, your voice shaky.

"Where is Derek?", you croak, the images from the nightmare still burning in your mind. "I kicked him out after you passed out. He was such an asshole.", she says, her voice soothing, stroking your hair. Relief floods through you like a cool summer rain. It was all a terrible dream, a twisted manifestation of your insecurities.

Amy helps you to the couch, her eyes filled with genuine concern. "Do you need anything? Water? Tylenol?" she asks. You nod, your head pounding from the stress of the imagined encounter. "I'm going to fix you a camomile tea," she tells me with a comforting smile. "It'll make you feel better in no time, sweetie."

She leaves the room, and you take a moment to compose yourself. The apartment is quiet, the TV playing. As your pulse slows, you notice something under the couch, something that wasn't there before. You reach down, your hand shaking, and pull out a crumpled condom wrapper.