Phoenix couldn't believe it—Catherine had broken up with him. Everything had been going perfectly. It had felt magical, like a fairytale, and then—because of her friend, not even anything to do with their relationship—Catherine ended it. The pain of her decision cut deep, a wound that felt impossibly raw.

For twenty long minutes, Phoenix tried to respect her wishes, to give her the space she asked for. But every second felt like an eternity, each tick of the clock a reminder of the growing distance between them. His fingers itched to reach for his phone, to call her, to beg her to reconsider. The urge was almost overwhelming, a physical ache that threatened to consume him.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, Phoenix grabbed his phone. His heart raced as he scrolled through his contacts, but instead of Catherine's name, he found himself staring at Molly's. A plan began to form in his mind, desperate and perhaps ill-conceived, but it was all he had.

"We need to talk," he texted Molly. The response came almost instantly, as if she had been waiting for him to reach out.

Molly: When?

Phoenix: Right now.

Molly: Okay, where?

Phoenix: Your house?

Molly: Not home xx. I'll send through my location, meet me there, it's my parents' house.

Phoenix's heart pounded as he read Molly's response. This was it—his chance to fix things, to make Catherine see that they belonged together. He grabbed his leather jacket, the one Catherine had always said made him look like a "proper rock star," and headed out.

The trip to the docks took longer than Phoenix had expected. The rain hammered down around him, making his tires skid on the rough terrain. His helmet kept fogging up, forcing him to open the visor. The wind and rain lashed at his face, but he barely felt it. All he could think about was Catherine, about the way her eyes lit up when she smiled, about the sound of her laugh.

Lost in these thoughts, Phoenix almost didn't see the turtle in front of him on the track. Instinctively, he jerked the steering wheel, and then the bike skidded out hard. He felt the bike take on a life of its own, bucking him off like a wild horse. For a moment, he was airborne, and then everything went dark.

The darkness was all-encompassing, but not silent. Phoenix could hear muffled voices, beeping machines, the rustle of movement around him. He tried to open his eyes, to call out, but his body wouldn't respond. Panic began to set in. Where was he? What had happened?

Time became fluid, impossible to measure. Sometimes, he thought he could hear Catherine's voice, calling to him from a great distance. Other times, it was Demi, her tone urgent and worried. But mostly, there was just the darkness and the beeping of machines.

When Phoenix finally clawed his way back to consciousness, the world was a blur of white light and indistinct shapes. He blinked, trying to bring things into focus. A face swam into view—not Catherine's, as he had hoped, but Demi's.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" Demi's voice was sharp, tinged with worry and anger.

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Phoenix tried to speak, but his throat felt raw, his voice barely a whisper. "Catherine... where's Catherine?"

Demi's expression softened slightly. "You literally went out for a motorbike ride in the middle of a hurricane! You smashed your bike and nearly smashed your skull! You—" Her voice broke with emotion. "You scared me! I could kill you right now!"

The words washed over Phoenix, barely registering. All he could think about was Catherine. "Where's Catherine?" he repeated, his voice stronger this time.

"Who?" Demi's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Catherine," Phoenix said, glaring at Demi. "My girlfriend."

Demi's expression changed, a mix of pity and something else—was it guilt?—crossing her face. "I think you mean ex. I saw the texts. Talk about brutal…"

Phoenix's heart sank. So it hadn't been a nightmare. Catherine had really broken up with him. But why wasn't she here? Even if they weren't together, surely she would have come to see him in the hospital?

"You read my texts?" Phoenix's voice was filled with disbelief and a touch of anger.

"Well, someone needed to keep your socials active while you were away—otherwise, the paparazzi would have had a field day with this. But don't worry, I took care of it."

Phoenix's mind reeled. "While I was away? How long have I been here?"

Demi's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of something—panic?—crossing her face before she composed herself. "Oh honey," she said, her voice dripping with sympathy. "You've been in a coma for almost five months now."

"WHAT?!" Phoenix jerked upright, ignoring the pain that shot through his body. "Five months?! No. No way. Give me my phone. Now!"

Demi reluctantly handed over the phone. "I kept it charged in case you woke up. I've been here every day, taking care of you, and making sure those perv ass nurses don't do anything weird during your sponge bath."

Phoenix barely heard her, his fingers flying over the phone screen. He checked the date, his social media accounts, anything that might give him a clue about what had happened during those lost months.

What he saw made his blood run cold. His social media accounts were filled with posts he didn't remember making—photos of him hanging out with girls, traveling around Europe. It was as if someone else had been living his life while he lay unconscious.

"Holy shit," Phoenix muttered, his mind struggling to process what he was seeing.

But then something caught his eye that made everything else fade away. Catherine's social media profile. In a relationship. His heart pounded as he clicked on the profile, praying it was some kind of mistake.

The photo that greeted him felt like a physical blow. Catherine, smiling brightly, her arm around a man in scrubs. The caption read: "One month anniversary."

"What. The. Fuck." Phoenix stared at his phone, half feeling like he was going to throw up. "She's dating the doctor?! Is that her ex? That doctor?! Nice and kind and perfect but had to move away doctor???! How could she?! That better be another doctor! Some dickhead doctor who's terrible!" The thoughts raced through his mind, each one more painful than the last. "I mean, I was here, half dying—okay, granted she didn't know that—and she's… oh my God. Did she sleep with him?"

Phoenix's heart monitor was beeping like crazy. He could barely breathe. His chest felt tight, and his fingertips tingled. How could Catherine move on so quickly? Even if she thought he had. How could she?

"I have to—I have to get out of here," Phoenix said, ripping at his cords.

"Phoenix, stop," Demi said, with actual concern in her tone. "You can't leave. Lay back down, or I'll call a nurse."

But Phoenix couldn't hear her over the roaring in his ears. He had to see Catherine, had to explain what had happened. He tried to stand, but his legs buckled beneath him. He found himself on the floor, staring up at the ceiling as Demi's face slowly appeared in his vision.

"You've been in a coma, dummy. You won't be able to walk right away."

Fuck. Phoenix closed his eyes, fighting back tears of frustration and heartbreak. When he opened them again, Demi was helping him back into bed, her touch surprisingly gentle.