I'm done. I'm sorry. I can't.
Six little words, and suddenly he's gone from my life. For good. I waited too long to tell him how I felt. I always assumed that he knew. That he could sense how I felt for him. After the Games and the war and our growing back together, I thought he'd understand that I need him. That I can't survive without him.
I close my eyes and ignore the stinging in my eyes. I don't care, I tell myself.He didn't care enough to stay, so you shouldn't care, either. But it's never that simple, is it? Never for me.
Despite my resolve to not care, the tears start to fall gracefully down my cheek, and the memory of what happened an hour ago comes back to haunt my mind.
I walk into the house, blissfully unaware of the tense atmosphere. I've just come back in from a hunting trip, and I've come to a conclusion.
I will marry Peeta.
He proposed a few months back, for real this time; but I told him I needed time to think. It came as a shock. After all, it's only been a year since the war ended. A year since we came back to a broken and bloodied District 12, broken and filled with painful memories ourselves. I wasn't ready. We weren't ready.
But now I am.
We've been living together for a while, now. We keep each other's nightmares away, and we love each other. I am confident of that.
Love.
It healed me. Love. I watched it break my mother, I watched it tear a country apart. I faked love. I played around with love. I felt love, the family kind, and let it destroy me. So it's a bit ironic that the very thing that caused all of my pain would heal me.
But with my history with life, it's not very shocking, I have to admit.
"Peeta," I call out, "I'm home!" I take off my jacket and throw it on a nearby chair. I take out the contents of my game bag and prepare to clean and skin it. It's a good load today. Four squirrels and two rabbits. It'll last us a few days if we make stew.
I hear his heavy tread and smile. I can't wait to tell him about my decision. It's all I can do to not run into his arms and tell him how much I love him.
He appears in the doorway, running his hands through his hair. He looks a bit nervous. And upset. I worry that he's having an episode – even though he hasn't had one in four months – and remember to be calm and caring.
"Peeta?" I study him carefully. "Are you okay? Do we need to play Real or Not Real?"
He shakes his head. "No, I'm not having an episode. I'm just … I … I don't know how to say it, Katniss. I'm sorry."
I start to feel a bit panicky and have to remind myself to calm down. "What are you talking about? You have nothing to be sorry for."
He sighs, making me feel a little nervous. "I know I don't, Katniss. You do. And yet, somehow, I always end up apologizing for everything."
My defense is raised now. My temper starts to get the better of me. "Really? Well, I'm sorry that everything is my fault and you feel the need to blame it on yourself," I snap. I snatch the carcass of a rabbit from the bag and begin to skin it roughly.
"That's not what I meant and you know it," his voice is frustrated. I feel regretful, but I don't dare show him that. So I ignore him. "You keep pushing me away, Katniss. I don't know what you want me to do anymore."
I throw my skinning knife down and turn to face him. "I do not push you away."
He crosses his arms. "Yes, you do. You don't tell me what you're thinking. You don't let me help you. You don't talk about your nightmares. You keep everything to yourself and don't let me in. I don't know what I'm supposed to do right now."
He's right; I don't. Peeta and I are two different people. He wants to remember. To keep the memory of all that we lost alive. I want to forget. I want to bury the memories so the ghost of the past stops haunting me. I can't say that I blame Peeta for not wanting to forget. He did forget for so long. His every memory was scattered, and it took over a to get them back. Even now, he still has trouble remembering.
But telling him about my nightmares doesn't help anything. It only makes him worried, and me vulnerable. I hate vulnerability in myself. I can't afford it. "Peeta," I close my eyes and inhale deeply, "you know I don't want to remember those things. I can't be vulnerable."
He braces his hands on the counter. "That's what a relationship is about, Katniss. If you can't be vulnerable around me, then you can't be vulnerable around anyone. And it's not fair for me to stay in a relationship where the woman I love can't even say 'I love you.' I'm sorry. But I have to go."
And that's when I notice the suitcase. My eyes start to sting. "Peeta, what are you talking about?"
"I'm leaving, Katniss." There's firmness in his voice that I've never heard before. He won't be talked out of it.
Panic grips me full-force. I can't live without him. I don't want to. He can't leave. He promised me always. But you never promised him the same, a voice tells me in the back of my head. I grip his arm, not caring about how vulnerable I must look right now. I'm completely open. "Peeta, please. Please don't leave me. I can't survive without you." That's it. It's all out in the open now. He has the power to crush me or complete me. I'm completely and fully vulnerable. The next thing he says will dictate the rest of my life. I have no control now. I gave it all to him.
He shakes my hand off of his arm. "It's too late, Katniss,"
The waves of familiar, blinding pain crash down upon me. It can't be too late. I placed my entire being in his hands. He can't leave me now.
No. No, no, no, no, no. No.
That one word runs together in my mind. It's all I can think of. It's all I breathe. It's everything in front of me and around me.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
I've been through enough. I've lost everyone. I can't lose him too.
No, no, no.
He's all I have left. I love him.
Love. No. Lost. Pain.
It's all I can do to stay standing and not collapse in a pile on the floor.
He turns away from me, picking up his suitcase and striding towards the door.
"Wait!" I cry out, surprised that I've found my voice. He turns to me, quirking a perfect blond eyebrow, impatient. "Where will you go? To stay, I mean?"
"I'm leaving the district." More searing pain. I never knew a heart could hurt so much. "I'm going to stay with Annie and her son in District Four."
Why. Why, why, why. Why Annie. Why not stay and live with Haymitch. Or move to a different Victor House here? Why not Beetee, or Johanna, if he wanted to leave so badly. No, no, no.
"Peeta, please." My vision is clouded with grief. I don't know how this all started. I was happy today. And then I wasn't. "We can work this out."
He sighs in aggravation, and runs his free hand through his hair. "No, Katniss, we can't. I'm tired. I've always run after you. I watched as you played with my emotions and I let you. I chased after your every move, letting you dictate my life. I can't do it anymore, Katniss."
"Please," my voice comes out small; a hoarse whisper. "I love you."
He inhales sharply, and shifts away from me. "You don't. You're just saying that." He opens the door and steps out, before turning to me once more. He looks me over with sadness in his eyes. "I'm done. I'm sorry. I can't."
I watch as he walks away from our life. Forever. It's only once he's out of sight that I break down in tears and let these walls hear my pain.
Hours after my tears, I stumble over to Haymitch's house. I aggressively throw the door open, not caring if I break it. Haymitch's house is a mess; but that's no big surprise. He's slumped over on the couch, a bottle half-clutched in his hand, five other bottles scattered around him.
"Haymitch!" I shriek at him, angry and hurt. My emotions are confused. I need someone to talk to. Someone who has lost as much as I have.
He's not too drunk. The other bottles must be old. And the bottle in his hand is only half-empty. He stirs quickly. His dark eyes blink at me, and he squints. "Well, well. If it ain't the girl on fire." I stiffen at the old nickname. The name Cinna gave me. "What is it now, sweetheart? More trouble between you and the boy?"
"He's gone," I say, tears intruding my vision.
"Gone?" Funny. He almost sounds concerned.
"Yeah, gone." I pull a rotting chair from the corner and drag it over to the couch before plopping down on it. I bury my face in my hands and try to breathe. "He's gone, Haymitch. Left for District Four. Says I was too closed off."
"Well," he shifts on the couch, "you have to admit, he's right."
That's not what I wanted to hear. "I already know that."
"You could—"
"Yeah, yeah. I could live a thousand lifetimes and not deserve him. I know."
"That's not what I was going to say," Haymitch points his bottle at me. "Love isn't about deserving each other. If you both love each other, then that's enough."
"But you said…"
"Yeah, I know what I said. But it's different now. He did everything to come back to you. That counts for something. You did everything to save him. And now that you both are like this," he pushes his hands together, "I'd say that it doesn't really matter if you deserve each other or not. Love is enough to overpower whatever it is that you both did or do wrong."
I stare at him. "I never knew you could be poetic, Haymitch."
"Shut up."
"What do I do, though? How do I prove I love him?"
"I ain't a counselor or something. You gotta figure that out on your own." He seems to just notice his bottle. "Why don't you go away, now? So I can finish drinking this."
I frown. "Haymitch, you need to eat something. Liquor isn't going to keep you alive, you know."
He smirks. "Who said I care? Go on and get. Go figure out how to get loverboy back."
Weeks pass. I don't hear from Peeta. I find myself pathetic, how I pine away for him. I just want him to come back to me. To prove that things can be okay. He's my only hope. The only person I have left.
I force myself back into a routine. I refuse to fall back into the depressive state I was in before Peeta came back. I refuse to be my mother.
Though, it wouldn't hurt anyone if I did become her. Because I finally understand how Johanna Mason felt in the Quarter Quell arena when she said, "There's no one left that I love."
Except, maybe, there's no one left that loves me.
The Capitol has picked up on Peeta being in Four. I turned on the television this morning for the first time in a year. The first thing I hear is "Peeta Mellark was spotted with Annie Cresta-Odair by the beach with little Finnick Junior, the child of Annie Cresta and the deceased Finnick Odair. Could this be the start of a new relationship? Could Peeta have grown tired of The Mockingjay? Keep watching for more—" And then I cut it off.
Peeta, Peeta, Peeta. Once upon a time, he was willing to give up everything for me. And once upon a time, I was willing to give up everything for him. I still am willing. He's not.
People change. I changed. Peeta changed. Once I was ready to give my heart to him completely and forever, he was tired of waiting. It's not surprising. Our thoughts and emotions never quite lined up. I waited too long. I confused him and hurt him.
I would have left me too.
And, once again, I cry.
I think I am healing. I beat my television to a pulp last night. It feels better. And yet, it feels worse. This is proof to everything I believed before the games. Love is messy. It hurts and maims and destroys. I should never have let my guard down.
But, oh, how wonderful love feels when you have it.
Peeta calls. He wants to make sure I'm alright. I'm not. But after all the trouble I've caused him, all the pain I put him through, I don't need to say so. So I tell him I'm fine.
Awkward silence presses afterwards. I say the first thing that comes to mind. "How're you and Annie?" I almost regret asking.
He clears his throat, sounding uncomfortable. "We're fine. But, Katniss—"
I can't stand to hear more. I hang up and slide down the wall, tears threatening. Okay, maybe I'm not healing. I should be happy for Peeta. He and Annie are perfect for each other, even if she is older than he is and already has a son and is impossible to think of without thinking of Finnick.
As long as he's happy, that's all that matters.
That becomes my mantra. His happiness exceeds all other emotions of mine.
As long as he's happy, that's all that matters.
Haymitch comes over. I don't want to see him. I don't want to see anyone. I want to feel the pain. I don't want them to inject me with some painkiller or mood leveler and end it for me. I don't want that. I need this pain to remind me of everything I've done wrong. Of how this all could have been prevented if I hadn't played around so long. Regrets and pain. Oh, how often they seem to be a couple. How dear friends of mine they are.
"Snap out of it, sweetheart. You're going to Four if I have to shove you on a train myself and lock you in a room."
This catches my attention. "No. I'm not."
"Oh," his voice turns a bit too sweet, "our little Mockingjay has decided to find her voice again, hmm?" It annoys me that he said something similar not too long ago, for the same reason; to annoy me. And it's working. Both now and then.
"I'm not going to ruin his life even more." I'm firm on this. He's been through enough already. And it was my entire fault. The least I can do is leave him alone and let him be happy.
The sound he makes is a crossover between a laugh and a snort of disgust. "He's as miserable as you are, I can assure you that."
"How would you know?" Suspicion laces my voice, and I don't bother to hide it.
"Because I've spoken with him. You're both pathetic. Can't ever see how much the other cares for either of you. Always pushing it away, both of you, thinking it won't be real and you'll get hurt. It's pathetic. What you two got is … painfully real. After everything you've been through, you both found a way to love again. And you're going to throw that away? You two should be hogtied and beaten to death for it."
I start to interrupt, to ask how he had spoken with Peeta, but he ignores me and continues on. "I would give anything to have that chance back. Johanna would give anything to have that chance back. You were the leader of a rebellion. You won a war. You inspired people, as surprising as that is. And yet, you're still afraid of love."
"It's not that simple."
"Nothing ever is, sweetheart. You have two hours before the next train leaves. You better pack quickly and lightly."
I don't know why I do it, but I do. After all we'd been through, I guess I kinda have to trust Haymitch. He's the only family I have left.
If I were honest with myself, which I rarely am, I'd realize that it's not because of what Haymitch said that I'm going to Four. Since when have I ever listened to Haymitch, anyway?
But I'm not honest to myself. I don't want to admit that I miss Peeta and that I hope he'll be happy to see me. If he isn't … well, I'll probably lose all hope afterwards. It will be the final time I see him, should he be disappointed that I came. I need to settle this, even if it leaves me heartbroken.
I'll be fine without him, I try to reassure myself. I don't need a man to complete my life.
The train arrives in Four by 5am. I couldn't sleep at all. I kept wondering, what if I end up like the man in The Hanging Tree song? Begging my love to join me in sorrow, only to never receive an answer. Only, the man in the hanging tree was dead. He didn't have to suffer the pain of his lover never answering. He only assumed that they would.
I decide to see my mother before I attempt to see Peeta. I know I'm only prolonging the inevitable, but I really don't care. I need to gather my wits before subjecting myself to Peeta. Otherwise, I might cry as soon as I see him and fall to the ground, begging him to come back.
I can't afford to do that.
My mother is, some-what surprisingly, awake at this time. I stop by and tell her hello. We talk for a few hours before she leaves for her early-morning shift at the new hospital. I wander around her house for a few hours, noting the blank walls and bland decorations. As Peeta would say, it lacks personality; therefore, it is not a home, but merely a house.
I suppose there's not much time to personalize your house when you drown yourself in your work to bury the pain of loss.
My mother and I are a lot alike in that regard.
After a while, I realize that if I want to see Peeta today, I should get going. I'm not quite sure where he is, though. That may pose a problem. How can I find someone when I don't know where to look?
But, if I really think about it, Peeta's not too hard to figure out. He likes to paint and bake. He could be volunteering his time at a bakery. Or he could be painting free portraits. Both of these don't take much imagination to conjure up. Peeta likes to give. Giving is his way of showing love and happiness.
Or, it's possible he could be at Annie's house. So I decide to go there and check first. If he isn't there, maybe Annie can tell me where he is.
I arrive at Annie's house around 2pm. I don't understand Four's twirling and twisting streets, and it doesn't seem like its inhabitants do either. Every time I ask for directions, they seem more confused than I do. It's not very comforting.
But I do, eventually, find it. I just followed the ocean. Of course the victor houses would be built near the sea.
Annie's sitting outside on the soft sand, her son in her arms, wrapped in a blanket. I approach carefully, not wanting to frighten her.
"Annie?" She seems startled anyway, despite my best attempts to be gentle and quiet.
"Oh, hello, Katniss." Her soft smile seems genuine. "I wasn't expecting company."
I blush. "Sorry I didn't call ahead. I just … well, I wanted to surprise you."
She doesn't buy it. "You mean you wanted to surprise Peeta."
My gaze falls to my feet and I hang my head. "Yeah, that too."
She smiles again. "No need to be ashamed of that. Love is when you can't stay apart for more than a few hours without missing the other. I remember Finnick and I were like that." Her smile turns sad and her eyes glaze over with tears.
"Is Peeta here?" I ask. I hate to interrupt her moment, but I need to see Peeta.
"I'm right here." I turn around, unbelieving until I see his face. When I do, it takes all of the self-control I have to not jump into his arms. "What are you doing here Katniss?" He sounds disappointed. Or tired. My hope and confidence begins to crumble.
"Oh, um … could we maybe … take this somewhere else?" My eyes dart around.
Peeta sighs. "Yeah, come over here." We walk in silence for a few moments, luring me into memories of the victory tour; how we walked along a very similar strip of beach.
But memories don't last forever. "Why did you come here Katniss?"
I could blame this all on Haymitch. I could say he sent me here. I could say I wanted to see Annie or my mother. I could protect my heart and run. Again.
But I'm so tired of running.
"You've followed me all of my life," I start. "You loved me even when I didn't even bother to learn your name. You protected me and gave up so much for me. You saved my life over and over again."
The emotions are clogging my throat. My lips quiver. But I continue on. "You lost your family, your home, and your sanity for me. You gave up everything, Peeta, everything. And I was still so selfish. But I love you."
He tries to stop me here. But I refuse to stop. He has to listen to me. "I'm not just saying that because I'm lonely. And I don't feel like I owe you for giving everything up for me. But, somewhere in that timeline, I did fall in love with you. I don't know when, and I don't know how. But I did.
"I always felt as if I owed people for doing good things to me. But not with you. With you, my happiness is the only thing I owe you. You had every right to be angry at me. And you still should be. But I need you to know that what we have is real. Always real. I love you. And no matter what happens after this, I will still love you. If you come back home to me, I promise you always, if that's what you want. I just needed you to know that."
There's silence for a minute before Peeta pulls me into his arms and buries his face in my shoulder. I hear him mutter over and over, "I love you, I love you, I love you."
"I just have one question," I say, pulling out of his arms just slightly, "Why did you come here? To see Annie?"
He laughs. "Well, she wanted a cake baked for Finn's first birthday. And you know I hate shipping cakes. His birthday is still a week away, but I wanted to come here and study the fish and shells and wildlife so I could make the details as perfectly as I could." He rubs the back of his neck. "I figured Finnick's son deserved only the very best. He did save my life once, you know."
I nod. "I know. You're a very good person, Peeta Mellark. And I'd be honored to marry you."
He quirks an eyebrow. "Are you proposing to me?"
"No," I smile, "I'm just accepting your proposal."
He laughs again. "I guess we'll have plenty of time to talk about it, if you're serious about promising me always." He sends me a sideways glance. "You were serious, weren't you?"
"Always."
And with that, we dash back across the beach towards Annie. And, for once in my life, I'm not afraid of what tomorrow might bring. Oh, no. I'm excited.