AN: I really didn't like the way Suzanne Collins left Katniss and Gale at the end of Mockingjay. For me it made the ending even sadder than it needed to be.

"You didn't come to see me in the hospital." My words aren't accusatory; I'm only stating a fact. He doesn't answer, so finally I just say it. "Was it your bomb?"

"I don't know. Neither does Beetee," he says. "Does it matter? You'll always be thinking about it."

He waits for me to deny it; I want to deny it, but it's true. Even now I can see the flash that ignites her, feel the heat of the flames. I wonder if I will ever be able to separate that moment from Gale. My silence is his answer.

"That was the one thing I had going for me. Taking care of your family," I hate the sadness in his eyes almost as much as I hate the Capitol, but I do nothing to comfort him.

He touches my cheek and leaves. I want to call him back and tell him I was wrong. That I'll figure out a way to make peace with this. To remember the circumstances under which he created the bomb. Take into account my own inexcusable crimes. Dig up the truth about who dropped the parachutes. Prove it wasn't the rebels. Forgive him. But I can't, not right now. So I'll just have to deal with the pain.

Peeta caresses my face from across the table, breaking me out of my thoughts. "What are you thinking about?"

We've been through far too much together for me to even contemplate lying.

"Gale," I admit, eyes downcast.

He sighs. "You love him. Real or not real?"

I glance up quickly in surprise. "Peeta..."

He waits silently for my answer.

"Real," I confirm in a whisper. "But not how I love you. He's my best friend. At least he was,"

He nods in understanding. "Maybe you should talk to him then."

I told Peeta how I had left things with Gale. We hadn't talked about it since, and this was the first time he was encouraging me to talk to Gale.

"What can I say? I practically accused him of being responsible for Prim's..." I can't finish the sentence, even now.

"You can say that you forgive him."

I'm shocked by the sheer simplicity of the words. Can it really be that straight forward? I had thought that Prim's death and Gale would always go hand in hand. That I couldn't think of one with thinking of the other, that I would never be able to reconcile the two. But I have. And it's not fair to let Gale go on thinking that I blame him, that I can't stand to look at him.

I walk over to Peeta and sit in his lap. I lean into him and kiss him softly.

"I love you," I say, because I do, and because I've never loved anyone as much as I love him.

He smiles. "I know."

I tap my pen against the table and stare at the mostly blank piece of paper. On it one word is scribbled.

Gale,

I don't know where to start. How do you tell your best friend that you no longer associate him with the death of your sister? I decide to begin with an apology.

First of all, I'm sorry. Sorry about how we left things, sorry that I hurt you, sorry I haven't reached out sooner. Although one could argue that you haven't tried to contact me, either.

I want to scribble out the last sentence. It feels a little petty, but I want this letter to be honest, so I leave it.

I would be lying if I said I haven't lain awake wondering why you haven't. But that's not what this letter is about. I'm writing simply to tell you that I forgive you, and that I don't blame you. I don't think I ever did, in fact. I just needed time to sort through all my emotions before I could truly realize that. I also want you to know that what happened to Prim,

I find I also cannot write the words.

had nothing to do with my choice. You once said that I would choose whoever I couldn't live without. It made me angry when you said those words. You made me sound so callous. I want you to know that this is not what my choice was based on. I didn't choose him because I can't live without him. I thought you would know me well enough to know that I'm strong enough to survive without any man.

Now that I have started the word just start flowing.

Rather I chose him because he makes me better, because he counteracts my fire with his quiet strength. Now, I know that you probably don't want to hear any of this, but I just wanted you to understand that it wasn't because you were not enough for me. Rather you were too much; your fire only combated mine. We were too much for each other.

I hope that this makes sense, and I hope you don't hate me for it. I also hope that you find the girl that you are meant to be with. I'm so sorry that I couldn't be her.

I want to thank you for everything you've done for me, everything you've done for Prim. The only way I got through the Games either time was because I knew Prim was safe under your care. I knew that you would always take care of her. I can never repay you for that.

I love you. I know it's not in the way you wished for, but I do. That's something that will never change. I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me. You'll always be my best friend.

With love, Katniss

A tear escapes the corner of my eye and before I can catch it, it lands on the paper right beside his name.

I fold the paper and seal the envelope. I walk down the street towards the mailbox, thankful for the quiet and the cool breeze on my face. I drop the letter into the mailbox before I can change my mind. No turning back now.

Once I get home I crawl into bed next to Peeta. His face is troubled and I know he is having one of his nightmares. I lean over and kiss his soft lips. His expression smoothes out, and he looks content. I slide closer to him, tangle my legs with his, and reach for his hand to intertwine our fingers. I close my eyes and fall asleep to the sound of his even breathing, and I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this is where I belong.