Peeta and I lean back against the pillows holding hands. I close my eyes waiting for something to happen. My memory doesn't return, but serenity washes over me. His very presence surrounds me with comfort. I could sit here forever.

"I noticed a burn on my arm when I was dressing at the hospital," Peeta says, breaking the silence. "I might pull things out of hot ovens." He moves his left arm across his chest and twists it to show me a white patch of skin. "Look."

I have an overwhelming desire to kiss it like it's a child's boo-boo. But I restrain myself. It wouldn't be such a good idea. Next I'll be removing his head bandage and kissing every one of his ten stitches.

Instead I focus my attention on our interlocked hands, wiggling my fingers a bit. "Your brother made it sound as if you invented cheese buns, so I guess you must be a baker."

"I hope the recipes are written down then."

He's funny. I chuckle at Peeta's joke, and lean my head against his shoulder.

We sit in silence for a while longer. "How do you think we met?" he finally asks. He runs his free hand along the end of my braid, toying with my hair. The sensation sends a delicious shiver down my spine.

I raise my head to stare into his beautiful blue eyes. "Well, I remembered your cheese buns."

"That must be it." He smiles and his dimples cause my heart to melt. "You came into the bakery one sunny day, and I was working the counter while the regular person was at lunch."

Squeezing his hand, I add to his story, "I asked what you recommended and you said cheese buns, of course."

Without missing a beat Peeta continues this fanciful yarn about our meet-cute. "After one bite, the look on your face was radiant."

I smile at his description of my reaction. He's so proud of his creation. "You told me you made that batch, invented them even."

"And I asked what you were doing that evening because I couldn't take my eyes off you. I couldn't let a day pass without getting to know everything about you."

"Because I liked your cheese buns?" I tease.

"Because it was love at first sight," Peeta declares.

I blush. How did I ever get so lucky?

"You know that right. Even if I can't remember you, I feel as if I've known you forever."

I feel exactly the same.

A sudden thought occurs. "I wonder why you didn't tell your family about us?" Did I tell my mother and sister? They never mentioned Peeta to me.

"Maybe we didn't get the chance." Peeta untangles his hand from mine and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a small black velvet box and opens it. Two shiny gold rings sit inside. "I found this when I was looking for my phone. I don't know why we weren't wearing them, but we might as well put them on now."

He slips the narrow gold band onto my left ring finger, and puts the wider one onto his finger.

I hold out my hand to observe it. I didn't know a gold ring could feel so lightweight. I look up at Peeta with tears in my eyes. "I wish my memory would return."

He takes my left hand and rubs his thumb over my palm. "Give it time, Katniss, it will."

"You seem so certain."

"I'm not, but what does our past matter? We're together now. It's our future I care about." I'm ready to swoon, as he reaches for a loose tendril of my hair and gently puts it behind my ear.

I tilt my head up to stare into his eyes and then his head leans down. His lips meet mine. They're soft and gentle and I find myself opening my mouth to deepen the kiss to see if it helps me to remember something. Anything. And since I'm wearing his ring now it would probably be all right if we...

The door opens abruptly and a shrill voice calls out, "There you are." Peeta startles, and breaks our connection.

Dazed with lust, I turn my head, my hand resting lightly on Peeta's chest. A plump, middle-aged woman with short blonde hair stands in the doorway.

"So you're Peeta's bride. I'm Greta." Her forehead furrows, as she looks me over. "You're not very big. Yet."

She must think I'm pregnant! I look to my husband. A panicked expression appears on his face, and I feel his heart thumping rapidly in his chest. Has she triggered a bad memory?

"Aren't you going to say hello to your mother?" the woman questions.

"I'm sorry, but I didn't recognize you," Peeta says.

She snorts. "Your father told me some ridiculous story about you having amnesia as a result of that car accident."

"It's true," Peeta says. "Katniss has it, too."

"Interesting," she says. "You can't remember any of your family, but it looks like you remember each other just fine."

I guess it would look that way since we're cuddling together on the bed.

Peeta's mother shakes her head. "You've spent far too much time with Rye if you think I'm falling for some amnesia story. Now get your butt downstairs, mister. Your father and I want to talk to you and your brothers." She leaves, shutting the door behind her.

"Did she jog your memory? I ask.

Peeta bites his lip. "No, but I got a very bad feeling when she was talking. Like she's someone I try to avoid."

"She doesn't seem very understanding." At least my sister and mother believed my memory loss. They were even upset over it.

"She doesn't," Peeta agrees.

I rub my free hand anxiously across my belly. Could I really be expecting?

Peeta lets go of my hand and gets off the bed. "I better go downstairs and see what's going on."

"Do you want me to go with you?"

"Would you?" he asks.

"Of course, you're my husband. Your family is my family."

We go downstairs to find everyone seated at the dining table. Peeta's parents sit at opposite ends. Peeta and I take the last two seats next to each other. From Rye's description of the family, I'm able to figure out who's who.

Peeta's older brother Phyl sits to the right of Henry. He's tall and broad-shouldered like his dad. His wife Fern, who has shoulder-length red hair, sits across from him. Rye sits next to Fern and across from Peeta. A buxom blonde sits on the other side of Rye, directly across from me. She must be the overly cheerful Delly.

"You must be Katniss," Delly chirps, as I take my place. "I'm so happy to meet you."

"Thank you," I murmur. I look down the table and smile at Fern who is mouthing "hi."

How nice to have two sisters-in-law. I hope we can become good friends.

"I made a big salad for our dinner," Delly announces. "I thought we could save the steaks for tomorrow, for your anniversary."

Henry coughs. "That's nice of you Delly, but I don't think…."

I can sense the tension in the air as Henry's voice trails off. I reach for Peeta's hand to show my support.

"We asked you all to gather this weekend, and I suppose you thought it was for our anniversary because of the timing and all," Henry says. "But that's not it. It seems…. The thing is…" His eyes tear up, and his head drops.

"Stop being so dramatic," Greta says. Her eyes roam around the table. "We're getting a divorce. We're here to iron out the financials of the business since we'll be splitting up the assets. Your father thought it would be best if everyone had a say in the matter, since two of the bakeries will have to be sold off."

I feel the tightening of Peeta's hand on mine. Meanwhile I survey the faces around the table. I don't know these people, but it's easy to recognize they're devastated. Their entire world is collapsing.

I look to my husband. His forehead is wrinkled as if he's confused, but because of his memory loss, he's detached from the pain of the situation.

"Why are you doing this to us?" Phyl shouts at his mother. "You're destroying everything we've worked for."

"Don't blame your mother," Henry says, laying a hand on Phyl's arm. "We made the decision together. It's probably for the best. Besides the business won't be entirely destroyed. We'll just be cutting back."

"You know, Fern and I nearly broke up because of the hours I put in when we opened the last shop," Phyl says.

Fern nods in agreement. She reaches across the table to grasp her husband's hands.

"She hates all of us," Rye says, bitterly. He turns toward Greta. "Tell me, Mother dearest, what do you plan to do with your half of the money?"

"Rye, that is uncalled for," Henry breaks in. "This matter is between your mother and me."

"You lied," Delly says in a shaking voice. "We came here to celebrate your wedding anniversary. Peeta decorated a beautiful cake for the both of you."

Peeta leans toward me, and whispers, "I guess I decorate cakes, too."

Henry looks down the table at his wife of thirty-five years minus a day, and sighs loudly. "I think we need to let the kids get used to the idea, Greta." A nervous smile comes to his lips. "We'll discuss it more tomorrow. How about we all eat now?" His eyes flit around the table. Catching mine he says, "Hope this hasn't discouraged you, Katniss. We're not normally so emotional."