Ivy Marlowe
My fiancé had a thing for girls who were tiny, pale, and fragile-looking. A month before our wedding, he demanded that I slim down to 80 pounds.
So, I starved myself, counted every calorie, and spent my days at the gym. Alas, the harder I tried to lose weight, the heavier I got.
…
Meanwhile, the girl I'd been supporting stuffed herself with burgers, milkshakes, and late-night takeout every day. Yet, she kept getting thinner.
On our wedding day, my fiancé became disgusted the second he laid eyes on me and promptly decided that I was too fat to be his bride.
Then, he dumped me and replaced me with the scholarship girl right there at the altar.
Not long after, the rapid weight gain wrecked my health. One complication led to another. As I lay on my deathbed, she finally came to gloat.
"You idiot," she cooed at me mockingly. "I linked you to a weight-swap system. It doesn't matter how hard you diet because the weight loss always goes to me."
Then, everything went black.
…
When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the time before the wedding.
As my eyes focused, I saw the same girl standing in front of me, nagging me to lose weight.
I smiled, but scoffed internally. 'If you want to be skinny that badly, fine. However, I'll make sure you end up weighing five pounds this time around, ashes and all.'