It was a good thing I had an industrial sized mixer. I would have beaten the cake batter into unusable lumps if I'd had to do it all by hand. Instead, I sat back and glared at the mechanical arm that sliced through the batter like it was a hot knife through butter.
Shame and embarrassment slid through me again. My stomach soured as I thought of the i***t I'd made of myself. Now, I was going to have to act like we could still be friends. That I hadn't insulted him with my disappearing act.
I shuddered as the humiliation surged through me again. The black hole that lived inside me grew and pulsed as my inner asshole rose to vibrant life. No one will love you. How can they? You're a murderer. You helped a serial killer destroy countless lives. You killed daughters, sisters, mothers, aunts,
