OK so writing this just made me think of friends. So the real question is this were Rachel and Ross on a break?
But this was requested by: @Brooklyn324985
The fight had been building for weeks, tension bubbling just beneath the surface of every conversation. It was inevitable, really. Taylor had been frustrated with Travis's constant travel, the strain it placed on their relationship, and how distant they'd grown. Travis, caught in the demands of his career, had barely noticed until it all came crashing down.
"You don't even care anymore!" Taylor had shouted, her voice raw and breaking. "You're always gone, and when you're here, it's like you're not even present."
Travis had fired back, defensive, angry. "You think I like being away? This is my life, Tay! I'm doing this for us. You act like everything is about you."
Her heart had sunk at those words. "Maybe that's the problem. Maybe we need time apart to figure out what we really want."
That had been the last thing she said before slamming the door and booking a flight to her Rhode Island home. Travis had stood in the middle of their Kansas City living room, stunned, the weight of her words sinking in only after she was already gone.
The quiet of the Rhode Island night was supposed to be calming, but as Taylor lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, it only made her feel more isolated. The fight played on a loop in her mind, each word sharper, more painful than the last.
She had flown here to escape, to clear her head, but nothing felt right. The distance didn't fix the ache in her chest. She couldn't shake the feeling that this was bigger than just a fight, that maybe they had reached a breaking point. Maybe there was no coming back from this.
Unable to sleep, Taylor tossed back the covers and got out of bed. She needed to clear her head, get some fresh air. Slipping on her jacket, she quietly left the house and started walking down the dark, empty streets. The cold night air stung her skin, but she barely noticed, lost in her thoughts.
Why did it feel like everything was falling apart? Why couldn't they just talk it out like they used to? Taylor's heart ached, the weight of their unresolved tension pressing down on her chest. She loved Travis, but love wasn't always enough. Right?
The streets were eerily quiet, only the sound of her footsteps and the distant crash of waves against the shore breaking the silence. She barely registered her surroundings, her mind too wrapped up in the chaos of her emotions.
That's why she didn't see the car.
The headlights came out of nowhere, too fast, too bright. The world spun, and there was the deafening screech of tires, the sickening thud of metal meeting flesh, and then—nothing.
When the hospital called Travis, he had just finished a late-night workout, trying to clear his head. He almost didn't answer, but something told him to pick up.
"Mr. Kelce?" the voice on the other end was professional but urgent. "We're calling about Taylor Swift. She's been in an accident."
The words hit him like a punch to the gut. "What? What happened? Is she—"
"She's alive, but she's in critical condition. She's in surgery now."
Travis felt like the ground had disappeared beneath him. "I'll be there as soon as I can," he stammered, his mind racing. He hung up the phone, booked the next flight to Rhode Island, and somehow made it to the airport, his heart in his throat the entire time.
The next week was a blur of sleepless nights and helpless waiting. Taylor had survived the initial surgery, but she remained in a coma, her body battered and broken. The doctors had tried to prepare him for the worst, explaining the extent of her injuries—the head trauma, the internal bleeding, the fractures.
