My Best Friend's Weight-Transfer System

"You never listen when I tell you to watch your figure. Just look at yourself in the mirror—what a mess. No shape, no curves!

"Hurry up and lose the weight. If you can't get down to a hundred pounds with some actual definition, don't even think about marrying me!"

The impatient voice cut through the air. I blinked, reality snapping back into focus, and met the disgusted sneer on my boyfriend Zach Sullivan's face.

Out of reflex, my hand went to my side, a phantom ache from broken bones flaring for a second.

When I stayed silent, my best friend, Lauren McConall—standing right beside Zach—jumped in to back him up.

"Jen, if you don't do something about that waistline, no guy is ever going to want you! Just listen to Zach and put in the work. If he calls off the engagement, even I won't be able to fix it for you."

I shifted my gaze to Lauren. The poorly hidden glee and that faint, hungry anticipation in her eyes confirmed it—what I already felt in my bones was true.

I had been reborn.

Reborn to the exact moment Zach issued his hundred-pound ultimatum.

…

In my past life, it had started one month before our wedding, during a dress fitting. Zach had been scrolling through half-naked influencers on his phone, his eyes glued to their tiny outfits, while he scoffed at me in my gown.

"Other brides make the dress look better. You just make it look worse. You're turning designer silk into a potato sack."

"Go on a diet. If you're not down to a hundred pounds by the wedding, I'll just find a new bride."

I wasn't even obese at 120 pounds—just built a little broader—but wanting to look perfect, I threw myself into losing weight with a vengeance.

I lived on salad, punished myself at the gym twice a day, and followed every brutal fitness trend.

But no matter what I did, the scale didn't budge down—it shot up. I ballooned to 165 pounds.

Meanwhile, my best friend Lauren, who ate pizza, burgers, and cheesy fries every day, slimmed down effortlessly. She dropped from 130 pounds to a toned hundred in less than a month.

Her new "hot girl summer" body immediately caught Zach's wandering eye. They started "working out" together, which quickly turned into sleeping together.

When I finally caught them, they didn't even bother to lie. He called me a pathetic, jealous cow. She said I was too pathetic to live. And then, as if tidying up the last piece of trash, they pushed me off the rooftop. My wedding became hers.

It was only after I died that I learned the truth: Lauren had linked herself to a weight-transfer system.

Every calorie I burned, every pound I struggled to lose, was transferred directly to her.

And every ounce of fat, every bit of bloat she earned from her junk food binges, was dumped onto my body.

With her new perfect figure, Lauren also siphoned off my entire life's luck. She didn't just steal my fiancé—she stole my corporate job, and later, she even won the lottery jackpot.

All by feeding on my ruin.