【Ｆ１ ＩＭＡＧＩＮＥＳ】

[ Ｌａｎｃｅ Ｓｔｒｏｌｌ ]

LANCE'S POV

If you asked me about what the lowest moment of my entire life was, I'd immediately say that it was the day my girlfriend woke from her coma.

Y/N got into a motorcycle accident on her way home from my work, and she was in a coma for a week. For that whole week my life basically revolved around her hospital room. I would barely leave her because I knew that if I left she'd be alone. Her parents couldn't have cared less about her accident, they hadn't even texted to see how she was doing.

I didn't leave her alone the whole week she was in a coma, and I was there when she woke up. I was so happy she was finally awake! When I leaned over to hug her and kiss her, the three most painful words I'd ever heard tumbled from her lips.

"Who are you?"

That had been about two months ago, but if you thought that stopped me from doing my best to help her, you're solely mistaken. The doctor told us that her amnesia could be reversed, meaning she could gain back her memories, and I was determined to help her get them back.

During her rather long stay at the hospital I visited her constantly, showing her pictures from the two of us together on dates and pictures of us and our friends. She never remembered and she seemed so apologetic and depressed about it that it almost made me cry.

When she finally got discharged from the hospital, she still had to stay home and not work, so I made her the guest room, figuring she wouldn't feel comfortable sharing our bed with me. These things all felt like getting stabbed in the back, but I knew that they were worth it and someday Y/N would finally remember me.

I was already home when Y/N got back from work, her first day back.

She had started remembering some things, like what she did for work – she owns a bookshop/ art gallery along with one of our friends- the fact that she needs to have her motorcycle fixed because she knows she loves the rush of riding it, and the saddest memory she got back, her parents kicking her out at 18 and never once calling back in the last 7 years.

"Hey," she called softly from the door as she slipped out of her sneakers and into her slippers, "What are you up to?"

I gave her a small smile, lifting my book, "I went to train in the morning, and now I'm reading. I know, I know, how do I lead such a fascinating life?"

Y/N giggled as she sat on the other sofa, hugging her knees to her chest.

I smiled at the image, before pressing, "What about you? How was your first day back?"

"It was amazing! I love the bookstore, I love books!" She was speaking and her eyes were lighting up like a Christmas tree, which made me feel warm and fuzzy inside, "Lexi helped me out with a few things, but I think I did well for someone who can't even remember her life."

She had started making jokes about her amnesia, and I knew they were coping mechanisms, the same coping mechanisms she used before the accident. I knew my Y/N was in there somewhere, and I knew I'd get her back.

"My father called me."

My head snapped up to her and I closed the book, frowning as I swallowed, waiting for her to continue, "He yelled at me about the accident and about the fight we had before that, and I kept trying to tell him I didn't remember shit, but he only kept shouting."

I clenched my fists, her father was na asshole, no point beating around the bush.

All the time I'd known her, all the conversations she recalled having with him were just him bringing her down to the dumps and being mad at her for simply existing.