Toasts to Lost Loves
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Summary
At 10 PM, my fiancé Greg was still "working late." Scrolling through TikTok, I found a viral trend: "A Toast to Myself."
A delicate-faced girl raised a glass of milk, her voice trembling:
"First toast to me—for shamelessly getting his number after four days of pursuit."
A man in stripes appeared, head cropped out:
"Second toast to me—for traveling through a blizzard just to see him for a moment."
"Third toast to him," she whispered, tears welling. "The man forced to marry another... I wish him happiness."
My blood turned to ice.
The striped shirt was the one I'd bought Greg.
