He Skipped Our Wedding License 10 Times but Married My Bestie Chapter 10

He Skipped Our Wedding License 10 Times but Married My Bestie Chapter 10

While I was abroad, updates about the two of them still managed to find their way onto my feed.

Saylor never managed to become Mrs. Frost.

Instead, she married a wealthy, uncultured businessman she used to openly despise.

The profile that once flaunted a glamorous life on Instagram was now buried under a mountain of mockery and insults.

Her husband quickly grew tired of her, moving his new mistress directly into the house and banishing Saylor to a cramped guest cottage.

Refusing to accept it, she caused a massive scene outside her husband’s company.

The media caught her disheveled, physically clawing at the security guards, destroying the

high-society image she had spent years building.

The headlines were brutal-[Dumped Heiress Goes Berserk, Former ‘Princess’ Now a Complete

Mess.]

Embarrassed by the spectacle, her husband cut off her financial support entirely.

Eventually, she managed to track down my number

“Nevaeh,” her voice sounded hollow and raspy. “For the sake of… for the sake of our past, lend me

some money.”

“Is there really any past left between us?”

“It’s your fault!” She snapped instantly, her voice piercing with emotion. “It’s all your fault! If you hadn’t leaked those, I would never have ended up like this! Derek would never have left me! I was

supposed to be Mrs. Frost!”

I remained silent for a brief moment before responding calmly. “Saylor, I didn’t ruin your life. Your

own selfishness and malice did. I simply let everyone see the truth.”

The energy seemed to drain from her completely, her voice cracking into a sob.

“I just… I just didn’t want to lose. I always had to have the best of everything since I was a kid-the top grades, the family name, the perfect guy. How could a girl from a random small town always

beat me? How could I lose to you?”

“Once upon a time, I truly considered you the family I chose for myself.”

With that, I hung up.

Later, I heard she started frequenting low-end parties just to maintain a fragile illusion of her past

lifestyle, trading her dignity for meager favors until she became a running joke in the local scene.

Later, I heard she’d gotten into the wrong substances and ended up in rehab.

After she got out, she seemed unhinged-always carrying around a worn-out high school photo

album, sitting on street corners, laughing and crying to herself.

She’d stop anyone who passed and say, “I was supposed to be Mrs. Frost…”

“That bitch Nevaeh… she can’t take him from me…

“Derrick… my little cupcake…”

People sometimes posted updates about her current state online.

[Look, that’s the girl who framed her own best friend years ago.]

[Karma really comes around.]

Hearing those updates brought me no satisfaction, only a profound sense of exhaustion.

The girl who used to hold my hand and smile, promising we would make it big together, had ultimately destroyed herself through her own obsession.

Derrick also lost his claim to the Frost empire because of the leaked files.

Those 168 pages of evidence dragged Derrick and his family directly into a massive public

relations nightmare.

The corporate stock plummeted for days, and the family’s reputation was thoroughly trashed.

Overnight, the golden heir became a liability and a laughingstock within his social circles.

Yet, he didn’t stay down.

He used every connection and resource left to him turning the world upside down in a desperate

attempt to find me.

His friends later told me that Derrick became terrifyingly obsessed during that period, reckless

enough to chase down any rumor that even remotely sounded like me.

Then came the car crash that nearly ended his life.

Supposedly, he received a vague tip that someone looking like me had been spotted in a remote

town.

He drove through the night during a severe storm, lost control on a slick, winding mountain road,

and went over the edge.

By the time rescuers reached him, he was unconscious with eight broken ribs.

When I first heard the news, my lips curled into a faint, detached smile, and a quiet laugh escaped

“Really?” I set my glass down, my voice completely hat. “What a shame.”

My voice held no pity-only cold, distant indifference.

His friend had broken down on the phone, sobbing that when Derrick woke up from surgery, he couldn’t recognize anyone else, only repeating my name over and over, vowing to pay back what he

owed me with his life.

But I didn’t care anymore.

Late devotion is entirely worthless.

Derrick limped toward me now, his stride awkward and uneven.

I caught the desperation in his eyes and couldn’t help but think how cruelly fate had turned the

tables.

The ones who played with other people’s hearts had ended up played by fate themselves.

He held a bouquet of my favorite white roses, his eyes locked onto mine.

“Nevaeh… can we start over?”