As I watched the man in front of me aim his gun at my head, I had an odd thought that the pain in my neck would soon disappear. All the pain of my life would be washed away in an instant.

I only hoped that Katniss would find her way to President Snow and kill him, ending this war and the oppression we were all fighting.

But my fight was over. My time in this world was at an end. I was about to die in someone's colorful Capitol living room.

I closed my eyes and waited. And then I heard the click.

I opened my eyes and saw the surprise on the face of the man intent on killing me. His gun had malfunctioned. I had a brief thought that mine might have worked for him had it not melted away in Messalla'a hands beneath the city.

The other Peacekeeper stepped forward with a large green glass bowl in his hand. He raised it over his head and as it came down, I felt the instant pain in my head. And then I felt nothing.

I woke to the sound of a woman's voice and thought it was Katniss. I couldn't think of where we were and tried to remember, but my head hurt terribly, and I couldn't focus my thoughts. I tried to speak, but only got out a sort of grunt, and then everything seemed to slip away again and I tried to listen for Katniss, but she was gone.

When I woke again, I was able to open my eyes and I saw my mother's face, smiling with tear-stained cheeks. I wanted to touch her—to ask her why she was crying when clearly she was also happy.

Then I remembered the green bowl, the Peacekeeper, me on my knees while the people I had loved in my life danced through my head, squeezing my heart one last time.

Only, it wasn't the last time. I was alive. And my head hurt.

I was in and out of consciousness, but quite out of it even when I was awake.

Finally, once I was able to speak, I asked, "Katniss?"

"She's fine," my mother said. "The rebellion is over."

"Snow?"

"He's dead. Peeta Mellark killed him."

I knew Katniss wanted to be the one and wondered what had happened. "Where is she?"

"They're both back at home. People are going home, rebuilding the district."

I felt a wave of relief. It was over. She was safe. And with Peeta. I knew he was still a mess when I last saw him, but didn't know how long ago that was. "How long have I been here?"

"A while. Weeks."

"How many?"

"Five. Almost six. You're going to be fine though. You're healing."

"Don't tell her," I said.

I didn't want Katniss to see me and pity me like she had when I'd been whipped and was laid out on her kitchen table.

"She probably knows," she said. "I assume so or I would have told her myself."

And yet she wasn't here. So she either didn't know or didn't care. I thought it more likely that she didn't know. "Well, in case she doesn't, please don't tell her."

She nodded and said, "We'll talk about it later."

But we never really did. As time went by, I knew my decision was the right one. Katniss had been through so much, and regardless of what I felt, she deserved happiness with the man of her own choosing. With me out of the picture, she could be with Peeta.

Along with the rest of the world, I'd seen her kiss Peeta, and I knew she really loved him. She wasn't that good an actress. I knew her better than anyone. And I'd kissed her myself.

I tried not to think of the kisses, but the first time I'd held her in my arms haunted me. Saying goodbye after the first reaping. I'd reached for her and she pressed herself into me and I wanted so badly to protect her, to save her, but I knew I couldn't. I just felt her-really felt her-with every part of me. I tried to cling to the feeling of her, knowing it would likely be the one and only moment I'd have with my arms around her. I'd wanted so badly to hold onto the memory of it at the time and now wished I could get it out of my mind.

I'd always regretted that I hadn't gotten the chance to tell her I loved her as they abruptly ended our good-byes, but now I could see that had she known how I felt, she might not have been open to Peeta's very public declaration of love—his offer that ended up saving them both. If my love had planted even a tiny grain of guilt in her—given her a reason to hesitate when Peeta first took her hand in the chariot, she could have died. And it would have been my fault.

I thought of how before the reaping I'd wanted to be the one who taught her about love between a boy and a girl. That seemed like a million years ago now. Fate had stepped in and given her someone else to teach her that.

They'd saved each other's lives countless times and become the sweethearts of the whole nation. How could I ever compete with that? And why would I if it was what she wanted?

My accidental omission of love at that unbearable parting gave Katniss the freedom to open herself to Peeta, and it had saved her life. Now, once again, my silence could free her to be with him—to find a happy life with a man who loved her, even though it wasn't me.

And so Katniss got the life she deserved back home while I worked on getting better. I fought the morphling withdrawal and for a long time could focus on very little but my own recovery.

I had hideous scars on my face and neck. I was vain enough to feel sorry for myself about that. I knew that the girls wouldn't be lining up for kisses anymore like they had when I was in school. Before I'd fallen in love with Katniss.

But maybe I could still find someone who would want me. A home we could go to—maybe in a new district. I had turned twenty while in my coma, and even though I felt about a thousand years old, twenty was still very young. With no war to fight, I just might go on and have a decent life. One with children. Children who'd never see a reaping.

I had visits from some of my friends. Finnick came. He wanted to tell Katniss, but I made him promise not to.

"She and Peeta need to have a chance at what you and Annie have. I'm in the way," I told him.

"Shouldn't it be Katniss's decision?" he asked.

"You've seen them together." Everyone had. "Don't you think she's decided?"

He didn't argue with me, and I wondered what he might have seen that I hadn't.

Haymitch was a little harder to convince, but I finally did. He'd spent time with the two of them at home and said he thought it was completely safe for her to be around Peeta now. That was really what I needed to know—the final piece of the puzzle for me. She'd be safe. And have a real chance at happiness.

I thought of her all the time in spite of my resolve to move on. I knew I was getting stronger both physically and emotionally.

I convinced myself that I could go out and start a new life. Meet someone new. Find good in the world.

But of course, that all changed the moment she walked in my door and I started crying like a baby. I didn't want a new life. A new girl. I wanted Katniss. I was hers and she was mine. And nothing would ever change that.