23rd December 2356

Peeta's gone.

Or, more realistically, I've gone. Thrown out of Peeta's life without a second thought. And he was the one to throw me out. He didn't care for me for one moment and now I've got no chance of going back.

I didn't want to cry, but that's all I've been doing for the past few hours. I always used to think that crying was a sign of weakness, something I refused to show. However, Prim used to cry, so I had to comfort her. That was why I had to be strong: I couldn't be weak for my little duck. Then, when she went, I thought I had a right to cry. It was Peeta who held me. He was the strong one.

I would give anything to have Peeta back, holding me once again, but I know I can't. I will never again smell the sweet cinnamon that accompanied his return from the bakery; never again taste whatever delicacies he brought home; never again see his blue eyes first thing in the morning; never again feel his arms around me; and never hear him call my name again. Whatever incredible life I had with Peeta has gone. My life has been ruined by the one I loved.

And, damn, didn't I love him? Don't I still? I swore that I would never fall in love when I saw the state my mother went into after my father died. But then stupid old sweet Peeta swept me off my feet. And I fell for him hard. I tried to convince myself that it was just a phase, that I would soon be over him. Not likely. When he came into my life, I couldn't forget him, especially when he was there to comfort me after Prim went. Eventually, agreeing to a date seemed like the easiest thing.

After that, well, going on more dates was the only option. Oh, and it was not long after that when he proposed. Of course my answer was yes. I had not dreamed of anything but living with him for the rest of my life, for a few years, although I never admitted it to him. But he had loved me for many years longer than I had loved him and I knew that, and I would like to think that he knew how much I loved him, too.

It didn't take long for the wedding to be planned. I didn't want anything big or fancy, and neither of us could wait to finally be together. Therefore, we were married in the traditional way for our village, and then Peeta persuaded me that we should go to Vegas for our honeymoon.

Big mistake.

That's when things started to go wrong.

I mean, initially, it was great. It turned out that Peeta had recently got a pay rise and had been saving up for a while. We got the best room in a pretty expensive hotel and it was beautiful. Certainly, it was an amazing place to spend our first night as a married couple together.

After that, for the first two weeks, he treated me to whatever I wanted. We went out to eat every night. We went to see movies. We drove out to secluded areas and just sat under the stars. Because he had been planning for so long for it to be all about me, it was great, but, because it was Peeta, it was perfect.

Slowly- understandably, I will admit- things began to change.

Obviously, we couldn't stay in that room in the hotel forever, so Peeta showed me a house he had bought for us to live in, rather than our families' old ones. Admittedly, I was a little nervous about moving away from home so quickly, but I was willing to give it try for him. He had done so much for me, so appreciating this house he had bought seemed minor.

He didn't return to work as we were so far away, but he somehow kept getting a reasonable amount of money. Enough to support us, at least. And I was stupid not to question it. I was just so pleased that he could spend time with me.

When he asked if we could do things that he wanted, I didn't mind. The first two weeks had been all about me, so I wanted to do things that he wanted to do, too. That was what our relationship was going to be like. What we gave to the other, we would expect in return. And I was so in awe of him, still, that I was never going to complain at what he wanted. I loved him more than words could express and I was going to always be in shock that he had "always" loved me.

Two months after we married and two months after we first came to Vegas, Peeta took me out to a casino. He admitted that he had been going there occasionally for a while, which is where our money came from. Although I was a little upset that he had kept that secret from me and wasted our money, I was glad that he obviously hadn't lost all of it and had seemed to gain some.

That night, I watched as he gambled. And drank. I saw him drunk- I mean really drunk- for the first time in my life. I didn't want to say it, but it made me sick to watch. For one who was usually so calm and collected, with no reason to turn to drink, he had suddenly become arrogant and rude. If it weren't for the fact that we were married, I probably would have run away. Instead, I stayed and watched as he became worse and worse.

Why I let him stay, I do not know, but when I saw him lose nearly all of our money, I finally stood up. Then, I gently took hold of his hand and pulled back, whispering, "We need to go now, Pete."

When he tried to shake my hand away, he replied, "There's no way that I'm going now. I'm on a winning streak! You can't tell me to leave now. You can't tell me what I can or cannot do."

"Come on." I gripped his wrist tighter and tried pulling him back, again. "You're not winning anything."

"I've won tonnes!" he disagreed, clearly unaware at how much he had just lost. "And I'm going to win even more if you just let me beat him."

"What will you bet?" I asked, looking at his eyes, only to see that they were clouding over.

He snatched his hands back and put his hands in his pockets, only to draw them back out quickly, with nothing in them. Not knowing what to say, he faltered and stared at the floor.

Taking it as my opportunity, I stepped between him and the table, holding his cheeks in my hands. "Please, Peeta. It's not worth it. If you don't have anything to bet, you can't. We need to go hom-"

"I'd be willing to gamble for your wife," interrupted the man from across the table, who Peeta was hoping to beat in the bet.

I immediately began to panic when I glanced over my shoulder at the slightly older man, with dark hair and grey eyes similar to mine, which were slowly sliding down my body. Peeta wasn't defending me, however, so I said, "Peeta, you can't do that-"

"Don't tell me what to do!" he shouted, pushing me back with sudden force.

Because I was not expecting the outburst, I stumbled backwards and hit my hip on the corner of the table. I doubled over in pain, but quickly stood up and stepped slightly away when the other man tried to help me back to my feet.

Almost as soon as I looked up at Peeta, I saw him nod. "May as well."

It didn't take long for Peeta to lose.

Then, I was being led upstairs, into the rooms at the top of the casino, by the other man.

It turned out that he was the manager of the casino, Gale Hawthorne. He had taken it over from someone Snow a few months ago.

He had been hoping to find a nice girl to be his wife and I was going to do "just fine".

However, I refused to let him lead me into his room, like he wanted. No matter how much Peeta had hurt me, both physically and mentally a few hours ago, he is still my husband. And I still love him. Whether or not he is still loyal to me, I will be loyal to him.

That, and I'm pregnant with his child.

Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed it! Review please!