Katniss's POV

Once I'm upstairs I go to our room, lock the door and fall into the bed. Why can't I just tell him how I feel? I pick at the hole in the quilt. I begin to cry, quiet ugly sobs. If I can't tell my husband how I feel, who can ever understand me? Who can I tell? I love Peeta. I so desperately want to make him happy but I can't be happy if I have kids. I can remember the way my mother looked when Prim was born. She was happy. Her coal-stained face was tired-looking but she was so happy to hold a cute little baby in her arms. Don't I want that? What if they turn into me? I'm too stubborn. I'm beginning to feel bad for my mother now. I must've been a terrible child. Finally I gather my wits and get my sorry butt out of bed. I straighten it up and go to the chest where I keep my few keepsakes. I open the drawer and pull out the parachute. Wrapped inside is a spiel and a pearl. I remember when Finnick and I put our green faces in Peeta's. I missed Finnick a lot. And the pearl. The Quarter Quell may have been hellish but I have some fond memories. I wonder how Annie and their son are doing. I'm sure Annie must be happy with him, right?

I hear a soft knock on the door. "Katniss?" Peeta calls quietly.

I open the door and hug him. "Oh, Peeta! I'm so selfish. If you really want kids we can have them!"

"No Katniss. I'm the selfish one. You don't want kids and I need to respect that," he whispers as he strokes my hair. "Really. I just want you to be happy."

I bury my head in his chest and he carries me the short distance to the bed. He sets me down and then lies in bed next to me. I put my hand on his chest and look up at his penetrating blue eyes. "I love you," I murmur as I fall into sleep.

When I wake up from my nap, I take a shower and think about what I want. Not what Peeta wants. Not what I want for Peeta. But what I want. He's right, isn't he? There are no more games, my original reason for not wanting kids. But I don't really want kids. I just want to please Peeta. But I can't do that. Not for him. Not for anyone. I would fail him and our kids. They would leave me just all the ones I loved. Gale, with his fancy job in District 2. Mother, staying in 13. And Prim, dying in the awful explosion with so many other children. My father, blown to bits in the mining accident. Rue, laying in the arena surrounded with flowers. Madge, blown up in District 12's obliteration. All of them, where I can't reach them. Do I want that to happen to my children? To Peeta? I step out of the shower and dry off. I put on some pants and a soft shirt. I open the bathroom door to find Peeta standing there.

"Peeta! What are you doing?" I exclaim. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"I'm…I'm sorry," he stammers. "I just need to talk to you."

"I already said I don't want to hear it, okay? Get it through your thick skull that it isn't happening!"

"But you said…"

"I thought you said you understand that I don't want kids."

"But I thought you said you want them," he says, obviously confused.

"Listen Peeta. I did some thinking in the shower . And what I want is to not have kids.I need to make myself happy first."

"But Katniss!" he calls after me as I leave the house before he can see the tears.

I don't know where I'm going but I just walk and walk and walk until I'm in what used to be town. I look around and see where the Hob was and the Mellark's Bakery. I fall onto the ashen ground and cry, loudly. I must look like a crazy person but I don't care. I'm a failure. I'm a mess. I can't make myself happy, I can't make my husband happy. I can't make anyone happy so why should I bother?

"Excuse me, ma'am?" a small voice says softly.

I slow my crying to a whimper. "What?" I look up. It's a little boy, blond hair and blue eyes. Like Peeta when he tossed me the bread that saved my life. Peeta. I begin to bawl again.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm…fine," I manage to squeak out. I wipe my eyes with my sleeve and it's then that he recognizes me.

"You're—you're Katniss Mellark!" he exclaims.

"Yes, I am," I sigh.

"My aunt talks about you sometimes."

"Your—your aunt?" I wonder who would waste their time talking about me.

"Yep. My aunt Delly just loves you. She was good friends with your husband."

"Really? She does?" Delly always makes people seem better than they actually are. It's not fair for her to be so nice!

"She goes on and on about how you saved Panem."

"I didn't exactly save Panem. And so many lives could've been spared if I hadn't done what I'd done." Finnick, I think.

"Yeah, you did! You were the mockingjay!"

I stand up. "Let's take you home."