Peeta and i grow back together. He stops by every morning for breakfast and comes back with my favorite cheese buns for lunch. Sometimes he even joins me when I go hunting, though he is still so loud I rarely catch anything on those days. I spend my afternoons at his house, watching him paint, working on the book, helping him bake. He tries to show me how to make his beautiful frosting flowers, but mine always end up looking like an unappetizing blob. At first he is cautious of getting too close to me, still afraid of what he might do. Every now and then he has to hold on to a chair and steel himself until a bad moment passes. I make a point of standing very close to him whenever possible to show that I am not afraid, that I trust him. He just rolls his eyes.

"You are far too sure of yourself," he says.

"I'm just sure that you'll never be able to do it," I reply. "And even if you tried, I'd lay you out with the same ease as I would with an injured squirrel."

He pretends to look offended. "Hey now, I haven't gotten quite THAT soft." We laugh. I guess he is right. His arms are as strong as they ever were. Soon Greasy Sae starts finding me enveloped in them in the mornings when she comes in to make breakfast. She chuckles and Peeta blushes. We don't try to explain to her that he is just there to alleviate the nightmares; maybe because we realize that it is not completely true.

After a year, we look almost like our old selves. The scars are mostly gone and my hair has grown out. The internal scars remain, but I know that those will never really heal, and I find comfort in knowing that I have Peeta to help me bear them. He almost never has trouble controlling himself now, though the only difference I notice is that we have to replace chairs less frequently.

Word comes that Gale is getting married. We send a present but choose not to attend the wedding. I don't want to bring memories of pain to what should be a happy occasion. With the announcement I am finally able to let Gale go, to forgive him and wish him the best. I am now free to give all of myself to Peeta, as he did for me long ago.

When he proposes, I half-heartedly make him wait a month before saying yes. The idea of having him all to myself has grown on me, and we have a simple wedding in the meadow. I want to keep it small, but all of District 12 seems to show up. Even my mother attends. She sits next to Dr. Aurelius, who comments on how far I have come. I thank him for giving me another chance at life.

Peeta looks dashing in his suit with his blond hair tousled by the wind. My prep team shows up for one final makeover. They have remade Cinna's mockingjay dress for me and I can't think of anything I would rather wear on this day. The trees surrounding the meadow are filled with birds singing as Peeta and I kiss as husband and wife. It is the most perfect, bittersweet moment of my life. I wish that Rue and Prim were here to hear the birds' song.

All that really changes after the wedding is Peeta finally moving all of his stuff into my house. We spend our days much the same as we always have. A year later the people of District 12 ask Peeta to take over as mayor. He is hesitant but I push him to agree. He has always been a leader skilled in communication, and I know he is the perfect man for the job of overseeing District 12's rise out of the ashes.

Peeta tries to talk me into having children. I strongly refuse. Even though it seems we are out of danger, who knows what tomorrow will bring?

"I don't understand what the big deal is of having children anyway," I say after an argument where we have gotten no closer to resolving the conflict.

Peeta takes me in his arms. "You have so much love to give, Katniss, but you are afraid, and you don't have to be anymore. Can't you see it? A little girl, the perfect blend of me and you, cradled in your arms, asking nothing of you but love and care." He gets a faraway look in his eyes. "And all you want to do is protect her, and love her, this little miracle in your arms."

I can almost see it, almost want it. I quickly shake my head to clear the thought away. "Until she grows up and doesn't need me anymore. If she even survives that long," I mumble.

Peeta laughs. "She'll always need her mother," he says, "and you would get to give her something you never had. A secure and happy childhood. I know you would be a great mother, because of how you took care of your family. We would raise her well, work on getting rid of the belligerence she would obviously inherit from her mother-" He dodges my fist "-and teach her how to not make the mistakes our ancestors did. Maybe someday she will even be president. Just think about it."

I sigh. I know that no one in their right mind would dare make any offspring of the erratic mockingjay president. But I can't get the rest of Peeta's argument out of my head. After fifteen years, he finally convinces me. We have a little girl, just as he predicted. I name her Rue, so that nor I or anyone else will ever forget where it all started. A few years later we have a boy, and we name him after Peeta's father, the kind baker that brought me cookies before the start of my first hunger games, that I could always count on to sell squirrel to. I teach both of the children to sing, and the birds always stop to listen. Peeta insists on playing Real or not real with them, and I never tell him that hearing those words always start a dull terror in my heart as I remember back to the time that my own sweet Peeta was lost in a world of confusion where not even I could reach him.

"Mom is the most beautiful woman in the world," Peeta says, looking up at me with a smile that melts my terror away. "Real or not real?"

"Real!" giggle the two children. "Now it's your turn, mommy. We are going to live happily ever after, real or not real?"

"-Or as close to it as we can," adds Peeta.

I smile and gather my family into my arms. "Real.