Part One

Chapter Six

Peeta insisted on proposing "the right way," getting a ring he could afford and making a day of it on Picnic Point18. After driving to the entrance of the park, we walked to our spot, spread out a blanket and I listened to him make plans, the ring now on my finger. Maybe we could honeymoon somewhere in Oregon since we'd always wanted to go. He wanted to buy a house—preferably around Hilldale19—once we both had jobs. He'd still work at the bakery until he could find some consistent work, which to be honest, was a bit of a relief since I wasn't really up on the market for graphic artists. Ideally he wanted three kids, maybe four.

"Peeta?"

"Hmm?"

"Can we just enjoy this right now? Just us?"

He rolled on top of me and whispered, "I can think of a few ways to enjoy us…"

"Stop!" His kisses along my neck made me laugh. "I'm serious. I want to just enjoy the engagement for a bit before we start naming hypothetical children."

He leaned he head back to look at me. "They aren't hypothetical."

"For now, they are. Let's bask in the moment a bit, okay?"

"So no more planning?" Disappointment and suspicion flitted across his eyes. Peeta frequently suspected the worst, having always been made to feel like he had somehow let someone down. Sometimes it felt like it was my job to reassure him. Occasionally it was irritating.

"I didn't say that, what I meant was—."

"I want to set a date."

"You need to relax! I love you, I love this ring. Now let's enjoy this moment. This exact one. Alright?" I rolled him over to lie down next to me, winding our fingers together between us.

"Is now a bad time to tell you that our families are waiting for us at James Madison Park?" He squinted in the sun when he looked at me, guilt plastered on his face. "Surprise?"

I groaned and scooted toward Peeta, snuggling into the crook of his arm. "You can't be serious. Now is the time when you're supposed to say 'Just kidding, babe. We're going to stay here for a few more hours, just us.'"

I loved this little nook near his shoulder. I'd never wrapped myself around another man, but I couldn't imagine a better fit for my body. Peeta's smell, warmth and heartbeat were so familiar to me, I was sure I could identify him blindfolded if asked. I knew his body as well as I knew my own…every freckle, scar, laugh line and eyelash. We had spent years simply memorizing.

Peeta kissed my head and shifted, ending the quiet moment.

"Let's go. They're expecting us. I don't want to keep them waiting."

…

Over the course of the following days and weeks, Peeta's health improves steadily and he's moved to a regular outpatient room on the fourth floor. He's awake for longer periods of time, eats with some enthusiasm (as much enthusiasm as can be mustered for hospital food) and is able to hold extended conversations. There isn't a moment when someone isn't with him and one of his parents is literally always at his side. I swear they're taking shifts in case he's upset, sad, gets a fever or is looked at wrong. The lack of privacy is starting to wear on me, so I assume (correctly) that it pisses Peeta off.

I can't remember his mother ever being so attentive. Years ago, I might have angrily pointed this out to her, but given my own distant attitude I have no right.

Many days I come to visit. Many more I don't, choosing instead to look for a job, spend time with Prim or simply sleep. At first I felt guilty, imagining Peeta thinking, "Where's Katniss?" Eventually the guilt faded and in it's place I felt a quiet truth.

The doctors patiently and repeatedly shared their plans for rehabilitation with the Mellarks, the first step simply being pain management, the prevention of infection and shaping what remains of the limb. It's an excruciating process to recover from any trauma and the incision sites make mobility painful for Peeta. Not further injuring his leg with an inadvertent bump is a constant worry. He slowly gains the use of crutches and can take a few hopping steps, eventually working up to full physical therapy and prosthetic rehabilitation. The time in a hospital bed has already decreased his muscle strength, so frustration quickly sets in for all involved.

Peeta's quiet and charming demeanor has (rightfully) been replaced by anger and defeat.

"Can I get you anything?"

"Sure. I could go for a burger. In fact, I'd like a burger from Dottie's20. Can you handle that, Katniss?"

It's impossible to ignore the sarcasm in his voice, but I reply anyway. "How about something legal? You know I can't bring in food."

"Can't do much of anything." His eyes stare into mine and I hold them for a moment before looking away.

So Mrs. Mellark tries with her voice that is almost sickly sweet. "Peeta, would you like to watch a movie? I think they have HBO! Or how about we take a walk to the rec room?"

"Really? We could walk there? Well doesn't that just sound amazing, Mother. Tell me, what else can I do with one leg?"

The room is now silent save for Mrs. Mellark sitting back down in the vinyl chair, her lips pursed.

Peeta sighs and apologizes. "Would you mind giving me some privacy? I'd like to speak with Katniss alone."

My heart is beating thickly in my chest and I look up, hoping—praying—that they insist on staying here with us. But they shoot each other a glance and silently agree, deciding to go home and have a real meal. They stop and pat his hand before looking at me and leaving.

This is the first time that Peeta and I have been alone since the accident and the tension in the room is palpable. First I just stand there but then move the chair next to his bed and take his hand, waiting for a word. It's awhile before one comes.

"Are you going to say something, or are you going to make me say it?"

My voice is soft and low. "What would you like me to say, Peeta?"

"When did you stop loving me?"

Softer still. "I love you—."

"No. No!" He takes our intertwined hands and presses them into the bed. "No, Katniss, please don't do this now. After all of this time don't look me in the eye and lie to me. At least be honest with me. If you ever loved me, tell me the truth. We were never going to get married, were we?" Peeta looks at the ceiling, tears funneling out of his eyes and toward his ears. I move to wipe them away, but he moves his head and brushes my hand away.

I whisper, "I don't know anymore."

"So we're done then."

"Peeta, we should talk about this when—."

"When? When what? When you suck up your pride and replace it with pity for me? When you decide to settle for the broken kid you used to love? When you resign yourself to a life you probably never wanted in the first place, let alone now when I'm defective? When, Katniss? Tell me!"

There are no words to sling back, since Peeta is right. I've failed him. I haven't been tirelessly selfless; I've been calculating every gesture and word, deciding what it was that Peeta wanted or needed to hear from me.

"It's actually a load off of my mind. I've known this for a long time, but I've been waiting for you to prove me wrong. Hoping, I guess. Wondering why I wasn't enough for Katniss Everdeen."

"It's not that simple." I can feel the ache in my jaw and at the back of my throat, a sure sign that I'm about to lose it.

"I think it is."

"Peeta." My voice cracks on his name.

"Please, just go. I'd like to be alone."

"Peeta."

"Katniss, I'm tired. Please go."

I look at him for a moment more before doing what he's asked. It's the least I can do.

I leave.

Chapter Six Notes

18. Picnic Point. A wooded park/preserve that is about a mile long. It juts into Lake Mendota and is incredibly popular for students to walk, picnic, etc.

19. Hilldale. Neighborhood on the near-west side. Close to campus, yet the undergrad student population is minimal.

20. Dottie's. Dotty Dumpling's Dowry is a hamburger joint near the Kohl Center in Madison. It used to be on upper State Street but was forced to move after the Overture Center for Performing Arts bought out the entire block.