Every word Dylan spoke was cold and final, cutting through the room like a knife. Without missing a beat, he grabbed Ruby’s hand and stormed out, leaving everyone in stunned silence. The looks directed at Harper from around the table were a mixture of pity and embarrassment. Jemma, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, finally lost it and bolted after them.
Harper realized what was about to happen and hurried after them, catching up just in time to witness the sibling showdown in the parking garage.
“She’s my best friend, you jackass!” Jemma shouted, her voice echoing off the concrete walls. “How could you humiliate her like that in front of everyone? After she’s spent seven freaking years loving your sorry ass, couldn’t you show her just a shred of basic human decency?”
“I’ve put up with her stalking me for seven years and only rejected her nicely because of you,” Dylan fired back. “Is that decent enough? Her so-called love has been nothing but a constant pain in my neck.”
Jemma, practically shaking with rage, her voice cracking, yelled, “Don’t worry about it anymore! She’s finally over you! Ever since you ditched her on the highway and she ended up with a concussion—”
“I only gave her that ride as a favor to you in the first place!” Dylan cut in. “Why shouldn’t I have left her? Even if she did end up in an accident, I’d choose Ruby over her every single time, a hundred times over. If she’s still bitter about it, tell her to stay the hell out of my life!”
The sharp sound of a car door slamming echoed through the garage. Not wanting them to realize she’d overheard this brutal exchange, Harper quickly slipped away before they could spot her.
Back at her apartment, she surveyed the space with fresh eyes, then systematically collected every Dylan-related item she’d apparently hoarded over the years. She dumped the entire collection straight into the garbage without a second glance.
She spent the entire weekend at home, meticulously sorting and packing her life into boxes. On Monday, Harper walked into the office and handed her resignation letter to Marissa in HR. Marissa’s jaw practically hit the floor. “Wait, aren’t you still on medical leave after your accident? I heard the Design Director position just opened up, and Mr. Rodriguez was considering you for the promotion. Why are you quitting out of nowhere?”
According to Jemma, after graduation, Harper had specifically targeted the Rodriguez Group’s design department to be near Dylan, every day. For three years, she’d busted her ass, all for the chance to be in his orbit, to legitimately stand by his side in a professional capacity. But now, with no memory of him or what it felt like to be consumed by that kind of obsession, everything was different.
So, facing Marissa’s bewildered expression, she simply offered a small smile. “I’m leaving Boston. I’m heading home for good.”
Marissa didn’t push further, just handed back the stamped application with a sigh. “If you’re sure. I’ll take this to Mr. Rodriguez for his signature, and your resignation will be processed.”