Tears blurred my vision, but my anger and heartbreak fueled my movements. I couldn't stay here, not after everything that had happened.
As I was about to leave, Solana stepped in front of me, her expression a mixture of guilt and something else I couldn't quite place. "Amari, wait," she said, her voice soft and apologetic. "I'm sorry, but please don't misunderstand Travis. I accidentally cut my finger and I'm running a fever, so Travis took care of me. I didn't know it was your wedding."
I paused, my hand gripping the suitcase handle tightly.
Fever? So that was why Travis missed our wedding?
I felt a surge of absurdity and anger. In his heart, my mother and I were less important than a minor injury on Solana's finger.
Taking a deep breath, I declared, "Travis, I want to break up with you!"
Travis, however, misinterpreted my words as jealousy. "Can you be more sensible, Amari? We could have the wedding at any time, but Solana was injured. I couldn't just ignore her," he retorted indifferently.