My Best Friend Tested My Fiancé. He Failed.

My Best Friend Tested My Fiancé. He Failed.

Zara Thorne · Completed · 7.6k Words

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Introduction

My college roommate was a professional loyalty tester.
Every boyfriend I ever had, she “tested.” Every single one failed. She sent me the photos to prove it.
“Good thing you have me, right?”
So I cut her off, moved across the country, and got engaged to a man I thought she could never touch.
On my wedding day, she showed up as my makeup artist.
That night, she climbed into my husband’s bed.
A year later, he stood at the foot of my hospital bed and watched me bleed out, because I’d dared to send her to prison.
Then I woke up. Back in that makeup chair. Back on the morning of my wedding.
This time, I know exactly what she’ll do.
And this time, I’m the one keeping the receipts.

Chapter 1

My college roommate was a professional loyalty tester.

She was also my best friend. Or at least, that's what I used to think.

Freshman year, she almost couldn't make tuition. I covered half of it.

She said she only wanted to protect me. She didn't want some jerk breaking my heart.

So starting freshman year, every time I got a boyfriend, she'd turn herself into exactly the kind of girl he liked. She'd get closer, little by little, until she got him into bed.

Then she'd send me the pictures.

"See, babe? Caught another one. Good thing you have me, right?"

Those years nearly broke me. In the end, I blocked her everywhere, moved to a new city, and started over.

Then I met Julian Ashford. I thought he was the one.

On the morning of my wedding, I was sitting at the vanity when I looked up and saw Brooke in the mirror.

She was wearing a makeup artist's black smock, and she winked at me.

"Surprise, babe. You didn't think I'd let you get married without testing him first, did you?"

That night, she drugged me, put on my wedding dress, and climbed into Julian's bed.

I woke up sooner than she'd planned. I called the police. She went to prison for drugging me.

A year later, I went into labor at Julian's own hospital, and I started to hemorrhage.

He was chief of staff. One word from him, and not a single person in that delivery room would come near me.

He just stood at the foot of the bed and watched the numbers on the monitor drop.

"All Brooke wanted was one night with me before you got married. One night."

"And you sent her to prison. She killed herself in there. Did you know that? She was pregnant with my baby when she died."

"Now it's your turn to pay."

That was the moment I understood. The man I married had been in love with my best friend all along.

I died. He didn't even give me a funeral. He dumped my ashes in the dumpster behind the hospital.

And then I opened my eyes.

The lights around the vanity mirror were blinding. Brooke stood behind me, the marker still in her hand.

I was back on the morning of my wedding.


Brooke Vaughn's pretty face was in the mirror, less than a foot from mine.

Just like last time, she was doubled over laughing, pointing at my forehead.

My bridesmaids had their phones out. Some were taking pictures. Some were filming.

I didn't need to look to know what they were laughing at.

I raised my eyes to the mirror.

Right across the middle of my forehead, in black capital letters:

TESTED: FAILED.

"What's so funny?"

The door opened. Julian walked in wearing a custom tux and the kind of smile that had landed him on magazine covers.

Brooke went straight for him and laid a hand on his arm.

"Dr. Ashford! I did a little surprise for the bride. It's that bridal prank that's all over TikTok right now. Have you seen it?"

She took a step forward, her heel somehow wobbled, and she fell right into Julian's arms.

She looked up at him, her cheeks flushed just the right shade of pink.

"Oops. Sorry."

I knew that move by heart. I'd watched her pull it at least twenty times in four years of college.

Last time, I'd opened my eyes to find her standing behind me. I'd seen the bridal makeup I'd practiced dozens of times ruined, and watched her throw herself at my fiancé all over again.

I lost it.

I lunged at her, ripped her off Julian, and slapped her.

"Get out! You're doing this again? Not this time!"

Julian had my bridesmaids pull me back.

Brooke shrank into the corner, a hand pressed to her cheek, the tears arriving right on cue.

"Mrs. Ashford, I swear I didn't do anything. It was just a wedding prank..."

I tried to explain. I told them she was a professional loyalty tester. That she'd slept with every guy I dated in college. That she'd destroyed my last wedding.

She just shook her head and cried harder.

"I don't even know you. I'm just here to do makeup. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please stop saying these things about me..."

People started whispering.

"A loyalty tester? Has she been on TikTok too much?"

"Oh my God. Is she okay?"

"Somebody take away her champagne."

Between those looks and Julian's tired sighs, everything I said sounded more and more insane.

Julian came over and put his arms around me, then turned to the room with an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, everyone. She's been under a lot of stress lately. Anxiety. You know how it is."

Then he leaned down and murmured in my ear.

"If you don't like her, we'll replace her, okay? Next time just come to me. Don't make a scene in front of everyone."

Back then, I thought he'd been fooled by Brooke's tears like everybody else.

It wasn't until I died that I knew.

He'd been on her side from that day on.

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