Thinking back on everything from my previous life, I wanted nothing more than to tear these two to pieces.

But I held myself back. It wasn't time to expose them—yet.

Instead, I smiled and agreed to Zach's demand.

"Don't worry. I'll lose the weight."

Zach looked at me, still doubtful. "Really?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

Seeing how obedient and eager I seemed, his tone softened. "That's my girl. I can't wait to see you at a hundred pounds. You're going to be a knockout bride."

He leaned in, intending to kiss me.

Just before his lips touched mine, a hostile gaze stabbed into me. I glanced sideways and caught the jealousy burning in Lauren's eyes, her hands clenched tight at her sides.

Of course, she couldn't stand seeing Zach show affection to me. She quickly stepped forward, slipping between us with a bright smile. Pressing herself close to his arm, she fluttered her lashes and pouted.

"Zach, don't be cruel! No PDA in front of your lonely single friend. If you hog Jen all to yourself, I might just have to steal her from you."

Unfortunately for her, Zach had zero interest in someone who weighed 150 pounds and stood only 1.5 meters tall. He dodged her attempt to get close without even thinking.

Lauren's expression stiffened, irritation flashing across her face. She didn't blame Zach, of course—she turned her hostility toward me instead.

Pretending to tease, she said, "Jen's such a foodie. Can she really lose weight? What if she ends up an even fatter embarrassment?"

Zach immediately shifted his suspicious gaze back to me.

Both of them stared at me, each carrying their own twisted agenda.

Under their piercing eyes, I smiled and nodded.

"Don't worry. I won't disappoint either of you. I'll slim down exactly the way you want."

As soon as I finished speaking, I pulled out my phone in front of them and signed up for a weight-loss bootcamp.

Their eyes lit up instantly, almost glowing with satisfaction.

Zach lifted his phone excitedly and began giving me "instructions."

"Jen, look. This is the ideal. I want you to get a waist like hers, and curves right… here. My future happiness is in your hands, babe."

Lauren joined in, clinging close as she nagged nonstop.

"And remember, Jen, a hundred pounds is the magic number! The perfect number. Not ninety-nine, not a hundred and one. Exactly a hundred."

The two of them basked in their own delusions.

I looked at their greedy, ugly faces and couldn't help the cold laugh rising in my chest.

I looked at them—at Zach, who saw me as a lump of clay to sculpt into his digital fantasy, and at Lauren, who saw me as nothing more than a metabolic mule to carry her own flaws.

I came from an orphanage and had treated these two as the only family I had—my boyfriend of three years, and my closest friend. Yet in the end, they schemed against me, betrayed me, and murdered me.

This time, they would both pay the price.

The very night I signed up, Zach and Lauren practically threw my bags into the car and drove me straight to the weight-loss bootcamp's campus. They called it "eliminating distractions" so I could "focus on my mission."

While I sweated through brutal workouts each day, Zach spent his evenings "unwinding" at sketchy massage parlors. He'd text me graphic details—rating the women's bodies or their "special services"—and claim it was all to "light a fire under me" to get thin.

It was repulsive. Looking back, I couldn't fathom how I'd ever been blind enough to love him.

Thankfully, a whole lifetime of hindsight had cured me of that delusion. His words rolled off me now like water off wax.

Meanwhile, Lauren dedicated her days to curating a private show just for me. She'd post story after story on Instagram—juicy burgers, loaded cheese fries, decadent milkshakes—each one carefully tagged "Close Friends" so only I could see. When mutual friends commented with concern, asking if she'd get sick, she'd reply with a winking emoji: "It's my secret weight-loss hack!"

Nobody else understood. But I did.

Her "hack" was theft.

I ignored their little performances and kept my head down, following the camp's regimen to the letter.

A week later, they showed up for a progress check.

The second Zach's eyes landed on me, his face darkened like a storm cloud.

He exploded right there in the lobby.

"Jen! What the hell is wrong with you? I told you to lose weight, not blow up like a balloon! Are you actually trying? Or are you just here to stuff your face?"

Watching me get torn down, Lauren's smile was so wide and bright it could have powered the building. She sauntered over, reached out, and pinched the roll of fat at my waist between her thumb and forefinger.

"Oh, Jen," she sighed, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "You really are hopeless. Look at you—getting bigger by the day. And look at me." She did a little spin. "I've been eating everything in sight and I've still lost… let's see… almost twelve pounds! Ugh, it's so annoying."

I lifted my gaze. It was true. On her petite frame, the loss was dramatic. Her cheekbones were sharper, her collarbones pronounced, giving her a gaunt, almost modelesque look.

I let my shoulders slump, painting misery across my face. "I don't get it… I've been doing everything right, but I've gained ten pounds. I feel horrible."

My display of defeat was the fuel she needed. Her preening intensified. "I guess it's just genetics! Some people are just born to be lucky, you know? Right, Zach?"

"Huh? Oh—yeah. Lauren, you look… really fit lately." His eyes had been glued to her newly-svelte waistline. It took her prompting to tear his gaze away.

He lavished her with a few more compliments before turning his scowl back on me. "Look at her, Jen. Then look in a mirror. Don't you feel ashamed? Are you even taking this seriously?"

I just shook my head, silent.

He stepped closer, his voice a low threat. "Get your act together. Lose the weight. Or I swear, I'll make you regret it in front of everyone."

Lauren piled on with her signature brand of poison, wrapped in concern. "You just have to be stricter, Jen. You don't have my metabolism. You actually have to try."

They only left after their two-part humiliation was complete.

At dinner, I received several photos from Lauren of her and Zach eating together.

Lauren: [Aww, Zach insisted on celebrating my "transformation", so he brought me out for steak. I don't want to lose weight anymore though.]

Lauren: [You're so lucky, Jen! Getting to gain weight on vacation while I have to watch my figure.]

Lauren: [You need to work harder or I'll steal the spotlight at your wedding as the prettier bridesmaid.]

…

I read each gloating message, then calmly took another bite of my drumstick.

After a long moment, I typed a reply.

Jen: [Don't worry. You're my best friend—having you as my bridesmaid is the best gift I could ask for. Even if you overshadow me, I won't blame you.]

Of course, I wouldn't blame her.

In fact, I was counting on it. The "spotlight" I had in mind for her was going to be absolutely unforgettable.

A few days later, a video popped up on my phone.

It was filmed in my bedroom.

Lauren sat straddling Zach's waist, dressed in the cosplay outfit he loved most. Her eyes sparkled as she spoke in a soft, flirtatious voice.

"Zach, don't you just want to nibble at my collarbone?"

In the video, she looked much thinner—exactly the type Zach preferred.

And just as she intended, Zach leaned in and bit down on her collarbone. She let out a satisfied, breathy laugh.

"Zach," she giggled, "what if Jen fails to slim down? What should we do?"

With his face buried in her neck, he mumbled absentmindedly, "I gave her a chance. If she can't manage, I'll just switch brides."

"Oh? And who would be the most suitable replacement?"

Zach naturally heard the implication in her voice.

He laughed, flipped her beneath him, and growled, "If Jen fails, then I'll just pick you, little temptress."

They tangled wildly in my room.

Watching them fornicate in my space, I felt no anger at all. I simply ate the fried chicken in my hand, calm as ever.

Let them enjoy themselves while they still had the chance. Soon enough, they wouldn't even have the luxury to be arrogant.

…

One month later, it was finally the wedding day. The wedding proceeded on schedule.

I arrived wearing the same wedding dress I had tried on before.

The moment Zach saw me, the anticipation in his eyes died instantly.

He rushed forward and began turning me left and right, scrutinizing me from every angle.

His face twisted with disbelief, as if he were staring at a ghost.

"Jen, why haven't you lost a single pound? Did you just ignore everything I said?!"

Because I looked exactly the same as the day he told me to slim down.

His parents—who had rushed in from their rural hometown—also shook their heads.

"I thought you said she was shapely," his mother muttered to Zach, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. "A good, strong girl for bearing grandchildren. She just looks… heavy."

"Like one of those hogs we used to raise back home," his father grumbled, shaking his head. "An embarrassment."

It was my first time meeting Zach's parents. Before the wedding, Zach constantly told me they were simple, honest, kind people who'd had a hard life. That was why I agreed to take no betrothal gifts.

In reality, they were mean, petty, and rotten to the core.

And suddenly, I felt grateful—thankful I hadn't actually married into their family.

I was done pretending. I shot his family a cold look and lifted my hands in a shrug.

"What can I say? That's life."

My indifference only enraged Zach further.

He glared at me, spitting each word with contempt. "Jen, you think this is a joke? Fine. You want to be humiliated? I'll give you a show you'll never forget."

He snatched the microphone from the emcee and shouted to the entire venue, "I have an announcement! I will NOT be marrying this… this disappointment standing here today! I'm switching brides!"

Gasps erupted throughout the room.

Whispers spread like wildfire as people stared and pointed at me.

I remained expressionless, like an outsider watching a show. "Go ahead. Just don't come crying back later."

Zach spat at me. "The only thing I'd cry about is being stuck with you! I'm marrying the bridesmaid instead! I'm marrying Lauren!"

The crowd buzzed again. Heads turned, searching for the bridesmaid.

But no one came forward.

"Where's the bridesmaid? Didn't she come?"

"I heard she's the bride's best friend. Tsk, tsk… stealing the groom—what a sin."

"She must be really pretty. Otherwise, who would dare replace the bride on the spot?"

Even Zach froze. Holding the mic, he called out desperately, "Lauren? Lauren, where are you? Come out!"

At last, under everyone's urging, the doors of the wedding hall opened.

And when the guests saw the person standing there—

They were so shocked they screamed.