3 Years as Your Backup Wife, 1 Text to Crash Your World: 'Guess Which Twin Left?' - Chapter 89: Chapter 89

Dylan drove through the night to reach Boston, pulling into Harper's condo complex just as dawn broke. After dozing in his car for a few hours, he spotted her walking out the front entrance.
He was about to approach when Tyler appeared at her side.
The couple walked hand-in-hand down the sidewalk, completely wrapped up in each other. Tyler whispered something in her ear that made Harper throw her head back laughing—a full, uninhibited sound that stopped Dylan cold. He remembered when she used to brighten like that around him, before he'd crushed that light repeatedly.
Dylan ducked behind a landscaped median, masochistically watching their casual intimacy—the way Tyler's hand rested protectively at the small of her back, how she leaned into him as they walked.
He trailed them at a distance as they strolled to another nearby building. His stomach twisted as they entered together, his mind conjuring a dozen unwelcome scenarios.
Just as he was about to do something stupid, Tyler emerged alone and drove off. Dylan felt a pathetic surge of hope—maybe they weren't really together. Maybe this was all an elaborate show to make him jealous.
The next morning, Dylan made sure he looked impeccable—designer suit, fresh haircut, just the right amount of cologne. He stopped at Winston Flowers for a ridiculous arrangement of white peonies before heading to her door.
Harper, padding around in flannel pajama pants and a Boston University sweatshirt, heard knocking and assumed it was Tyler returning with the coffee he'd promised.
"Did you forget your key again?" she called through the door, unlocking it without checking.
When she saw Dylan standing there, she instantly tried to slam the door shut. He wedged his Italian leather shoe in the gap, thrusting the massive bouquet toward her.
"How the hell did you find my address?" she demanded, ignoring the flowers completely. "Have you been following me?"
Dylan bypassed her question entirely. "Harper, I've made a catastrophic mistake. I need you to hear me out—"
Harper wasn't remotely interested in whatever rehearsed monologue he'd prepared. She shoved harder against the door, desperate to end this ambush.
Dylan's superior strength was winning the battle when the elevator dinged. Tyler stepped out, balancing a cardboard tray of coffees and a bag from Harper's favorite bakery. Taking in the situation instantly, he set everything down and moved to Harper's side, positioning himself between her and Dylan.
"Back the hell up, Rodriguez," he warned, voice deadly calm.
Dylan barely spared Tyler a glance, his focus entirely on Harper.
"Ruby and I are done," he announced, as if delivering life-changing news. "I was completely wrong about everything, but I've finally figured out what I want."
He dismissed Tyler with a condescending look. "You don't need to keep up this charade to get my attention. It worked—I'm here now."
Harper's jaw literally dropped at his presumption.
"Are you actually serious right now? Tyler and I are together because he's thoughtful and kind and doesn't treat people like disposable accessories. This has absolutely nothing to do with you. I told you at the competition—we're done. Completely and permanently done."
Dylan refused to process her words, stubbornly recounting stories of how she had pursued him for years, as if her past behavior somehow entitled him to her affection now.
Harper finally lost it. "Dylan, STOP! I don't remember any of it! Just leave me alone!"
Dylan froze mid-sentence. "What are you talking about?"
"When you ditched me for Ruby that night, I ended up in an accident. I have amnesia. I have zero memory of those seven years I supposedly spent obsessing over you."
Dylan looked like he'd been gut-punched. Without those shared memories—without her history of devotion—there was nothing tying her to him anymore.
"But that's not possible," he stammered, voice suddenly hoarse. "You always said you'd never forget what we had—"
"Isn't this exactly what you wanted?" Harper cut him off. "You spent years complaining about me 'stalking' you. Well, congratulations—wish granted. I've forgotten everything about you, and you should be thrilled about it."
"No, you don't understand," Dylan protested desperately. "I realized I have feelings for you—I just didn't see it until—"
Tyler, seeing that Harper had said everything she needed to, stepped forward to end this pathetic scene.
"She's been crystal clear, Rodriguez. If you show up here again or contact her in any way, we'll get a restraining order. Unlike Harper, I don't have an ounce of sympathy left for you."
With that, he firmly closed the door, leaving Dylan standing alone in the hallway, finally understanding the finality of what he'd thrown away.