On first sight I’d given my heart to him. So much so that I had to have Paul grow a mustache so he’d look more like Bart. And I’d married Julian because his eyes were dark, dark like Bart’s. . . . Oh, God, how could I live with the knowledge I had killed the one man I’d loved best?
What in the actual fucking fuck is happening rn?
Cathy is in a state of delulu that hasn’t been fucking recorded yet.
