The golden afternoon light streamed through the window as you sat beside him, a comfortable silence between you two. Clayton was always there by your side, through thick and thin. But the ambiguity of your relationship gnawed at you. Was he your boyfriend? Your best friend? You couldn’t tell anymore.

“Can I ask you something?” you finally said, breaking the quiet.

He looked up from his phone, his usual warm smile on his lips. “Sure, what is it?”

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

His smile widened slightly. “No, I only have an ex.”

“What happened to your relationship with her?”

“Well,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “she’s not really my ex.”

You frowned, confused. “Uh… what?”

He chuckled softly. “It’s like this—she got hit by a car and lost her memory.”

Your heart sank. “That’s… kinda sad,” you murmured, unsure how to respond. “Wait, where is she now? You’re always with me. Don’t you ever spend time with her?”

He turned to you, his gaze tender, and smiled. “She’s right in front of me.”