Spider-Man: At breaking point

Chapter Two: Italian Food?

The familiar rush of wind brushed against Peter's suit as he swung through the city, each webline pulling him further away from the rooftop where his past had weighed so heavily on his mind. But tonight wasn’t about Spider-Man. Tonight, he was just Peter Parker—at least, that’s what he told himself as he made a sharp turn, landing smoothly in the shadowed alleyway beside a small, cozy Italian restaurant.

He quickly scanned the area, ensuring no one had seen his entrance. Satisfied, Peter hurriedly peeled off his Spider-Man suit, stashing it in his backpack. A quick change later, he was back in his regular clothes: a simple button-up shirt, jeans, and his old, trusty pair of Converse. As he slipped on a jacket to cover the last traces of his superhero identity, he took a deep breath, trying to push down the anxiety gnawing at his insides.

Tonight was supposed to be special—a rare night off with Mary Jane, just the two of them. It had been so long since they’d had a chance to just sit and enjoy each other's company without the city calling him away. Peter hoped this dinner might be the start of mending the distance that had grown between them. They’d been through so much together, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were standing on shaky ground.

With one last glance at his reflection in the restaurant’s window, Peter straightened his collar and walked inside. The warm, inviting aroma of garlic, tomatoes, and fresh bread greeted him, a stark contrast to the chilly night air outside. The restaurant was dimly lit, with candles flickering on each table, casting a soft glow that made everything feel a little more intimate, a little more personal.

He spotted her immediately. Mary Jane Watson sat at a small table near the window, her red hair catching the light as she absently twirled a strand around her finger. She was beautiful, as always, but there was a tension in her posture that Peter couldn’t ignore. Her gaze was fixed on the table, a distant look in her eyes that made his heart sink.

Peter approached with a nervous smile, trying to push past the unease. “Hey, MJ,” he greeted as he slid into the chair across from her. “Sorry I’m late—traffic, you know how it is.”

MJ looked up, offering a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, traffic.” She sighed softly, her fingers still playing with the napkin in her lap.

Peter tried to keep the mood light, desperate to bridge the gap between them. “So, how’s the food here? I hear the lasagna’s to die for.”

Mary Jane didn’t laugh. Instead, she set the napkin down and looked at him, really looked at him, with an intensity that made his chest tighten.

“Peter, we need to talk,” she said, her voice steady but tinged with a sadness that sent alarms blaring in his mind.

“Yeah, sure. What’s up?” Peter replied, trying to sound casual even as his stomach twisted into knots. He knew where this was going, but he wasn’t ready to admit it.

Mary Jane took a deep breath, her eyes softening as she reached across the table to take his hand. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately, about us, about everything...”

Peter nodded slowly, his throat tightening. “MJ, if this is about me being late all the time, or—”

She shook her head, cutting him off gently. “It’s not just that, Peter. It’s... everything. The late nights, the constant worry, the fear that every time you walk out the door, it might be the last time I see you.”

Peter’s heart sank as the words he had dreaded hung in the air between them. “MJ, I know it’s hard. But I’m trying, I really am.”

“I know you are, and that’s what makes this so hard,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “But I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending that I’m okay with living in constant fear. I love you, Peter, I always will, but this... this isn’t the life I want. I need more than stolen moments and empty promises.”

Peter felt his world crumbling around him. He wanted to say something, to find the right words to fix this, but nothing came. All he could do was stare at her, the weight of his double life pressing down on him harder than ever before.

Mary Jane squeezed his hand one last time before letting go. “I’m sorry, Peter. But I can’t do this anymore. I need to move on, to find some semblance of a normal life. And you... you need to figure out who you are, without Spider-Man, without the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

Peter felt the sting of tears behind his eyes but blinked them away, forcing himself to nod. “I... I understand,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Mary Jane stood up, her eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and resolve. “Take care of yourself, Peter. And please, don’t lose who you are.”

She turned and walked away, leaving Peter sitting alone at the table, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows across his face. The noise of the restaurant buzzed around him, but all he could hear was the deafening silence in his heart.

For the first time in a long time, Peter Parker felt completely and utterly lost.