Me?
Miss him?
No way in hell!
I splashed cold water over my face once.
Then again.
And again.
The icy droplets slid down my cheeks and dripped from my chin into the sink, but they did absolutely nothing to quiet the chaos inside my head.
I gripped the edges of the marble sink until my knuckles turned pale.
"What is wrong with me?" I whispered at my reflection.
I scoffed in disbelief.
Why did I feel that way?
I squeezed my eyes shut. "This is ridiculous."
I forced myself to inhale.
Then exhale carefully.
But the harder I tried to organize my thoughts, the more tangled they became.
Why was I thinking about him again?
Why did his face keep appearing every time I closed my eyes?
Why did I keep remembering the way he'd carried me out of my mother's burning house?
Why did
