Chapter Thirteen
Amelia
I leaned my hips against the counter and crossed my arms, fighting the urge to swear.
My mother, Sarah Haynes, stood at the kitchen sink attacking the dishes. My mom was a usually calm person, but one thing that annoyed her to no end: drama. At present, she was taking her frustration out on me hightailing out of my wedding on the dishes.
“I still can’t believe it,” my mom said, her dark hair streaked with gray swinging to and fro. She rinsed another plate and set it forcefully into the dish rack before turning around. She snagged a towel to dry her hands, pinning me with her dark brown gaze. “I wish you’d saved yourself the trouble and not gone so far into the whole wedding thing.”
“Mom, I know it’s a mess. I’m sorry. I really am. But the only person I need to
