The next morning, Peeta doesn't mention anything about yesterday's breakdown. I'm appreciative for that. I'm sure he doesn't understand why it happened, even I don't understand, yet we continue on with our routine.
Together we eat breakfast and discuss ideas for the bakery. He wants to keep it the same way his parents first designed it over 20 years ago, and I agree. He only has a few minor changes he wants to fix, such as some upgrades. I go along with everything he says, not because I agree with everything he says, but because the mention of the bakery makes his eyes light up with happiness and he glows with excitement. And there's no way I could even think about taking that away from him.
When I open the window in our bedroom, I realize that the wind outside is beginning to turn crisp; the autumn air taking over the summer air. Seasons like to change so suddenly without me seeming to notice. Life seems to be going faster and faster every day.
I brush my hands on my jeans, and make my way back downstairs. Most days I pass the painted pink door, but today it makes me stop in my tracks. The door is cracked open, which isn't normal. I push it open, finding Peeta sitting in the rocking chair holding a teddy bear with his elbows on his knees. "Peeta?" I whisper.
He looks up at me, wiping his face on his sleeve, "Hey, Katniss,"
I cross my arms over my chest, "What's going on? Are you alright?"
He stays silent for a while, looking at the bear in his hands, and then speaks, "I was so excited," his voice cracks. "I was so excited to be a dad. I've always thought about what it would be like. What he or she would look like, what we'd do together." He places his hand over his mouth. Now, is when I realize he's been hurting. Covering up his pain with a smile. I've been so selfish. I've only thought about my feelings throughout the entire thing. What about him? He wanted this baby the most.
"I had just imagined holding her night after night, loving her. I imagined her wrapping her fingers around mine." With every word his voice breaks more. I want to stop him, but I know he has so much more to say. "I had already started to plan her future," he chuckles. "I wanted the world for her. I was so happy to know she would never have to grow up to be a tribute. I hoped she would look exactly like you. I wanted her to be as beautiful as her mother, and grow up to be a strong woman. But she will never have a future. She only was a small bump. Only a figment of my imagination. She was just a dream." He stands up from the chair and that's when I realize I have my own tears falling. "She was taken from us. Maybe she was needed up there in the sky, for a reason we don't know. Maybe we'll never know why. But I know that I love her." In that moment, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer to me, I need to feel his warmth on his body comfort me. I need to feel his arms wrap around my waist.
"I'm so sorry." I whisper in his neck.
"It's not your fault. It's never been your fault." He rubs my back.
"Yes, yes it is," my fingers grasp his sweater, "I should have done something, I should have…I should have
"Yes it is," I pause, grabbing Peeta's sweater, "It is my fault we lost her. I didn't take good enough care of myself, I didn't eat the right things you told me to, I didn't stop hunting until the last possible moment, I stressed about things I didn't need to, I-"
Peeta tries to console me, but it's no use. I sob into his shoulder and I can feel his body quiver every few minutes. Soon enough, he brings me to our bedroom, where together, we cry in one another's arms. There have been too many times where we've had to be strong, in this moment we decide to be weak. We decide to allow each other to cry, to sob in each other's arms wishing that the future looked better than what it does now. And wishing with some glimmer of hope that our baby could come back to us.
"I love you," he whispers, kissing my cheek. We lay there fingers intertwined, staring at each other like we were the only two people in the world, and in this moment we are.
"Maybe this happened for a reason," I begin, "Maybe it wasn't meant to be."
His kisses my forehead, "Maybe,"
"Maybe we are meant to open this bakery," I move my body closer to his, "Maybe we're just meant to enjoy each other's company for the time being. When it happens it'll happen." We both stay silent for a while, softly I whisper, "I still believe in fate."
I hear Peeta sigh, and he kisses my forehead, lingering there for a moment. I close my eyes, feeling his soft lips on my forehead, remembering this moment. "I do too, Katniss." I hear him whisper just as I give in to my heavy eyelids and their begging for sleep.