An early update and a long chapter!

Chapter Seventy-Two

There were many types of silences that Effie had encountered during her life.

One of those types was the companionable silence, comfortable and soothing, a silence shared between long-time friends and spouses. It was the kind of silence she shared with Haymitch when she curled next to him at night, moments before she fell asleep. Another type of silence that she enjoyed was the peaceful kind, the one that Effie welcomed with open arms and drank in heavily when the boys took their nap because it gave her room to catch her breath and rest.

There was also the bad kind of silence, the kind that hung heavy in the air moments before a hand strike a cheek and someone screamed in pain. Or the unbearable, oppressive silence that was her companion when she endured days in isolation during her imprisonment, one that almost killed her.

Today, the quiet in the voting booth was unlike any other that she had encountered. The silence was a gaping void that needed to be filled with the scratch of pen on paper, the exhale of her breath as she finalised her decision and the sound of paper creasing as she folded it in half to be slipped into the voting box. The silence demanded her to fill the void with noises, demanded her to act but Effie couldn't. She stared, paralysed by the paper she held in her hand.

Effie inhaled, counting silently to ten just as Exton had taught her. She adjusted her grip on the paper, still staring at her options as she weighed her choices carefully. Her gaze was fixed on the third option, the one she had been considering and turning over in her head for days on ends. Those two words – "ten years" – called out to her. She bit her lip.

Ten years was a long time. That option would give her another decade with Haymitch. It would grant her children ten more years with their father. That would make them fourteen. They would be old enough to understand should their father asked for a divorce when the law is repealed then.

Would they? It will be easier to lose their father now than later, the voice nagged at the back of her consciousness.

Effie squeezed her eyes shut. She tried to reason with herself. They wouldn't be losing their father. She remembered her promise to Haymitch for a joint custody. That would allow him to raise them but just not with her.

Ten years would give her enough time make him love them; to make him love her.

That sent a jolt down her spine. Effie wrinkled her nose in obvious disgust. She was not that sort of woman, desperate for the affection of a man. She was better than that. Men used to fall on her feet, most men except Haymitch.

Darling, if you can't make him fall in love with you within these five years, another ten wouldn't make a difference.

Effie hated the truth in that. If he didn't love her, no amount of time would change that. Still her hands shook as it continued to hover on the third option.

She couldn't do it even if she wanted to. It felt so much like enslavement. She couldn't trap him to her for another decade. That was just selfish. But she wanted him and if that made her selfish, then so be it. He is her husband.

Her eyes flickered to the second option, the one she was supposed to choose. The option Haymitch wanted her to vote on even if he had not said it to her out loud. He had heavily implied it. That was the one she was supposed to pick if she truly meant what she said about supporting Haymitch.

Put a tick on the second option, she told herself. Do it! Choose 'no' – you don't want this law.

Time became a distant concept. Effie had no idea how long she had been in that booth. It was quiet. It was so far removed from the chaos and commotion outside the Community Centre. None of the officers on the duty approached her booth asking her to hurry. She was given all the time she needed but Effie wished someone would tell her to move along because only then would she feel the urgency to make a decision.

Effie parted the curtain, taking a peek outside. The queue for her booth wound like a snake. Haymitch was nowhere to be seen. He had probably gone to his own booth. Effie drew the curtain close. She could not stay here forever. At some point, she would have to make a choice. People would start to wonder what was taking her so long. Haymitch would send an officer to check on her and there would be questions.

With such gentle movements, Effie smoothed out the creases on the paper. She laid it flat on the table and took a deep calming breath. On the boxes next to the options, Effie put a tick on all three of them.

The silence fell fast and sharp like a guillotine around her. Effie blinked rapidly in a vain attempt to clear the tears gathering at the corner of her eyes. Her grip on the paper tightened, her knuckles turning white.

"I'm so sorry, Haymitch," she choked out.

With shaky hands, Effie folded the paper in half and dropped it into the ballot box.

This silence screamed of her sin, another kind to put on her list.

XxX

Haymitch was easy enough to spot as she descended the steps of the Community Centre. He was the man carrying a boy in his arms while running after another.

"Come back here!" he demanded.

"Go, dada!" Tristan clapped his hand happily, egging his father. "Run, run!"

Ethan ran past Haymitch and jumped straight at Effie, who nearly toppled if it had not been for a man behind her holding her steady.

"Thank you," Effie thanked the man. "Do not do that, Ethan!"

"Good that you're here," Haymitch said, so severely out of breath. "We're going home and Ethan's getting a time out."

He glared at his youngest son. The boy buried his face on Effie's neck, lips quivering.

"You took a while," Haymitch commented as they walked home. "I had two people ahead of me in the queue and I was done long before you were."

There was nothing to say to that so Effie remained quiet. She held on tight to Ethan's hand as she walked next to Haymitch.

"Got this feeling," he said. "I think this is it - the end of it. The Referendum will do for us what the appeal couldn't."

"You're feeling confident."

"Yeah," Haymitch nodded. "I am. Talked to a few people while waitin' for you. What I got from them is that most of them chose the second option. As they should."

"Voting is confidential!" Effie frowned, trying to mask the guilt that was bubbling inside her. "They shouldn't be discussing it."

Haymitch chuckled. His eyes sparkled with amusement when he glanced over in her direction.

"Will you relax?" he implored. "This isn't Snow. This isn't a dictatorship. Nobody's gonna disappear just 'cause they voiced something out against the Government. Times' changed, sweetheart. Don't be so afraid. What did you choose?"

Effie pursed her lips and shook her head.

"A'right," he nodded. "You don't wanna talk about it. I get that. It's fine. But all I'm saying is that people don't care about it being confidential. Stop," he tugged on her elbow, forcing her to stop walking in the middle of the street. He tapped his ear. "Listen. Listen to what people are talking on the streets."

There was a group of people on the road side, laughing and talking to each other. Effie recognised some of them as the merchants from the farmer's market.

"I'd be damned if I pick the first," one of them laugh. "No way to live like that."

The group laughed. "The third felt like a desperate attempt from President Paylor, in my opinion. We ain't gonna have that law for another ten years. We can't. My girl will be 21 in ten years and she's got dreams that one. Can't have her put that dream on hold so she can get married."

Haymitch gave her a pointed look as they continued walking. Effie chewed on her bottom lip, thinking quietly to herself.

"The votes will be logged into the central database in the City, wouldn't it? Will the Government know what I voted?"

"They probably will but that's classified information," Haymitch explained. "They won't release who voted what – that's the whole point of it being confidential – so they'll just count the votes live on television tomorrow night after the poll close and then release the results of each district."

Effie nodded, her muscles relaxing ever so slightly. She knew this, of course, but it was reassuring to hear it again from him. She didn't want Haymitch to know her vote. She didn't want him to know that she, his own wife, had let him down. The guilt burrowed itself deep in her heart.

How many times had she reassured him that she was on his side? Yet today proved that it wasn't all true.

"What's class… class-fified, dada?" Tristan asked, twirling the ends of Haymitch's hair around his finger.

"Classified. It means secret," Haymitch answered. "Like the ones you and your brother, and your mother have. You people keep secrets from me, right?"

"No, we don't!" the boy said in surprised. He looked at his mother.

"Yeah? Who broke the chair under the apple tree?"

"'twas an accident! Promise."

Effie laughed quietly, shaking her head at her son. Tristan had crashed his battery operated toy car against the chair causing one of the legs to splinter. The boy had been terrified and Effie had promised him not to tell Haymitch about it but of course, Haymitch knew.

He let his son down and watched him run forward to walk alongside his younger brother, whispering conspiratorially in Ethan's ear.

"They should have done the counting tonight and it should last all the way till late morning the next day to preserve the validity of the votes but getting those boxes from the different districts to the counting centre in the City takes time," Haymitch went on.

It was rare to catch Haymitch in this good mood that Effie let him be. He wasn't a man of many words so to have him explain the process to her patiently without grumbling under his breath was an indication of the mood he was in.

The polling went on until eight that night.

They were back at Greasy Sae's diner for dinner and Haymitch had Ethan propped on his shoulder at they stood amongst the crowd, watching the black vans bearing Panem's official seal pulled up into the Community Centre. Armed guards hopped out and secure the premises as boxes upon boxes containing District Twelve's voting slips were brought out. Each of those boxes was heavily sealed to ensure that it was not tampered with. They were then stacked in the vans. The doors were slammed shut and locked. The engines roared to life and the crowd cheered. They had fulfilled their duties and all that was left was to wait for the results.

"Mr. Abernathy!" an eager young woman approached them. She came armed with two lollipops for the boys which was a clear form of bribery in Effie's opinion but she smiled, saying nothing. The woman flashed her badge, identifying herself as an employee from one of the state controlled newspaper company. "We require an interview from you once the results of the votes are released. I assume that you and your family will be at the Square tomorrow night to watch the live telecasts as the votes are counted, just like everyone else?"

"It depends," Haymitch shrugged, "on the boys. By the time those boxes reaches the City and they are ready to count the votes, it will be ten at night. It's past their bedtime and their mother is strict about schedules," he flashed Effie a grin. "They'll start the count in One and who knows what time it'll be when they finally get to Twelve. Chances are, I'll be at home."

"But it is imperative that I get an interview – "

Haymitch frowned which was a sign for Effie to intervene.

"I am certain that Haymitch will be amenable to an interview after the results are released. You may call the house to arrange for a suitable time."

Satisfied at that compromise, the woman nodded, taking down their down number before scurrying away.

"You don't want to watch the count? Are you certain of it?" asked Effie. "If the children take their afternoon naps, I will allow them this one time to stay past their bedtime."

"What's the point?" Haymitch shrugged. "Doesn't matter – we'll know the results when we know it. Don't have to follow the counts."

It dawned on her then that Haymitch was nervous. He simply wanted to wake up the next day knowing only one thing – if the law was repealed or not – without sitting through the process of getting to the final result.

But when night fall the next day and Effie asked him again if he wanted to be at the Square, he hesitated.

"We should go," she coaxed him. "This is your work – you should be there to see it. We don't have to sit through the entire counting process, maybe just for a little while."

They found a place at the Square and there, they watched the count for District One through Three. The twins were wide awake, revelling in the rare occasion where they were allowed out long after the sun had set. Effie pressed herself against Haymitch who had his arm curled around her shoulder.

There was a stream of updates coming in on the big screen that had been set up at the Square. Counting has been concluded in District One and at ten sharp, the results for that district came in.

Effie held his hand tight in hers as the screen flashed the result of the first option in the referendum – 15%. As expected, Haymitch tensed.

"Why would they even vote for that?" Haymitch hissed. "Why would they want the law?"

Those were rhetorical questions to which she had no answer. The second option won by a large majority with 60% of the resident's vote. Haymitch smirked, releasing a breath. That left the third option with 25% which was inconsequential in the light of the majority votes.

In Twelve, the crowd had started cheering and clapping for their fellow district. In District One, people were celebrating in the streets; dancing and singing.

"That's one district in our favour," Haymitch patted her knee.

Back on screen, the reporter tapped her earpiece, intently listening to the reports coming in from the counting centre.

"There are 95 spoilt votes in District One. These occur when voters either made no clear markings or more than one option was marked on the voting slip. Incomprehensible votes are also considered spoilt and spoilt votes are not included in the final vote count," the news anchor reported.

"Idiots," Haymitch cursed. "If those votes were intentionally spoilt, then they're stupid – the whole lot of 'em. They've been given the right to do something and that's what they chose to do with it."

Effie recoiled, pulling her hand out of his grip. He had struck a nerve without realising and she was nervous.

"You okay?" he glanced at her.

Her smile was hollow and Effie watched as his brows furrowed before he turned away, beckoning the boys to him.

Effie and Haymitch stayed until Tristan fell asleep in Haymitch's lap from the late hour. Ethan had grown irritable, wanting his mother to switch the screen to his favourite show.

"This isn't the television at home, darling, I can't change it," Effie stroke his hair. "He's cranky, Haymitch."

In District Three, the second option garnered a 70% vote and similar to District One and Two, the people were celebrating. On screen, the camera zoomed in to Beetee, a wide smile plastered on his face.

"Haymitch, Ethan's cranky," Effie repeated.

"What?" he turned to her with a grin still on his lips. His eyes fell on Ethan and then to the huge clock on the Square. It was already past midnight. "Home?"

XxX

The volume of the television in the living room was turned down low. The screen flashed with scenes in District Five where similar to how it was in Twelve, people were gathered at the Square awaiting the results.

Haymitch lounged on the sofa, feet stretched out before him as he pillowed his head on the arm rest. Effie leaned against the door, watching him. She had tucked both boys in bed and she had tried to go to sleep herself but when she closed her eyes, all she could see was those three ticks she had made on her voting slip. She had tossed and turned, and she had told herself that that was her vote and it was her prerogative but she hated the guilt. She hated keeping this from him.

He lifted her head when he heard her soft footsteps padding across the room. She lay next to him, her head tucked under his chin as he played with her hair. Effie turned off the television.

"I was watching that," he said and she could feel his chest rumbled with every word he spoke. "We got Five. Now they're going to Six."

"We'll know all the districts by tomorrow," she whispered.

"It's two in the morning – why aren't you asleep?" he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hand, trying to stifle a yawn.

"I can't sleep – "

"What's the matter? You haven't been sleeping properly for days," he asked. He was still worried about her episodes and he had been asking if she had been taking her medication as Exton had prescribed. "Do you want sleeping syrup? I can get Katniss to – "

"No," she shook her head adamantly.

She was close to losing her nerves. He didn't have to know. She could just go back to bed. But before she could change her mind, Effie took a deep breath.

"There's something you should know," she breathed out. Her voice was soft and hesitant. "I – I asked that you be honest with me. You said that there was nothing you're keeping from me anymore."

That got his full attention. The sleep vanished from his eyes and he lifted his head to stare down at her. Haymitch placed a finger under her chin, tilting her head so they were looking at each other.

"Somethin' wrong? I've told you everything -"

"It's not that. It's nothing to do with you," she offered him a small smile. "It's just… It's not right – it won't be fair if I keep it from you when I expect you to -"

"Stop," he squeezed her arm slightly. "Just say it, whatever it is."

"I chose all three, Haymitch," she blurted out. "I gave a void vote. I intentionally spoilt it."

His entire body went rigid. His eyes widened as what she said sunk in and then he clenched his jaws.

"That so?" his voice was void of the warmth she was used to. Effie was reminded of the man underneath - the drunk she had first met – harsh and surly, and violent at times.

Haymitch sat up abruptly and Effie nearly fell of the sofa. She scrambled to her knees in front of him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Effie framed his face, kissing him in desperation. Haymitch had closed off and she was trying to bring her husband back to her. She could talk to her husband but not to this man who wouldn't even look at her.

"I'm sorry," she repeated when he did not respond to her kisses.

He held her an arm's length away. "Why?"

"I – I didn't know which to choose. I was torn and I couldn't decide. You have to -"

"Shouldn't it be obvious enough to you? It wasn't even something that needed to be considered. The first is out of the question and the third will bind you to me for another ten years."

"Which is not a bad thing, Haymitch! Why is that such an impossibility? This isn't something bad," she gestured at the space between them. "Being married… It's good, isn't it? We made it worked."

His face morphed into one of shock and anger.

"I can't believe – You are so selfish," he spat, standing up to pace the living room. "This ain't 'bout us."

Effie sat back on her heels, rocking back and forth.

"I know it's not. But when I was in that booth…" her voice cracked a little but Effie refused to cry. She had done nothing wrong. All she had ever done was love him. "When I was in that booth, all I could think about was you. I thought of us and the children. I don't… You don't understand, Haymitch. I don't want to lose you."

Haymitch spun around to face her, clutching his hair in obvious frustration.

"Effie, we were forced to get married. Do you understand that at least? This," he gestured, very much like she had done earlier, "wasn't by choice."

"I'm not stupid," she snapped but her gaze dropped and she stared at her hands.

"If I wanna get married, I want it to be my choice, on my terms, out of my own free will. If I want a wife, I want it to be 'cause I chose to get married not 'cause I had to. I want…" he drew a shaky breath, staring at her. His gaze had softened and the manic frustration in which he held himself had slowly dissipated. "Maybe… If I had the choice, it coulda been you I wanna marry. I don't know. Perhaps you visited Twelve frequently for the kids, maybe I'll see you in Four. We have mutual friends, we're bound to cross paths and …" he ran his hand down his face, "maybe, who knows, but you and I could even be friends and… But I was never given that choice. It was either you or some stranger, and you were already in trouble with all that petitions."

Effie sat on the sofa, gaping at him. She tried to wrap her head around what he just said; all those insinuations and possibilities.

"You thought we could have been friends after the war? I was under the impression that you hated me."

He rolled his eyes.

"Once, before you told me about your sister and why you were in the Games when our train stopped to refuel," he shrugged. Haymitch scowled when he saw that she was still looking at him with a stupefied expression. "Don't look at me like that. If this law isn't in place – if circumstances had been different – you will have a different life in the City. Find someone – "

"Stop," she shook her head. "Just stop. There is absolutely nothing to be gained by going down that path. I think… I think I understand what you are trying to tell me. Choices. You want to know for certain if you would have chosen me if there was no law."

Haymitch blinked and tore his gaze away from her.

"You silly, silly man," she moved to stand in front of him. "Have you forgotten that at the end of the day, you chose me just like how I chose you to be my husband? You could have said no to me when I called asking if you would like to marry me. You could have said no and married someone else, Haymitch. You didn't. We chose each other and I fell in love with you, and I don't want to lose you. You would have to live with the fact that for the first time in a long time, you are cherished and loved."

Haymitch jerked, a muscle in his face twitched. A look of surprise crossed his features, as if he had never seen it that way – that they had chosen each other – and that this was the first time he was considering it.

"Sweetheart," he swallowed, "we had our backs against the wall and a noose around our neck. It wasn't much of a choice, was it?"

"There was still a choice," she held his gaze. "You made yours."

The pupils of his eyes dilated at her words and something in the air shifted. A nervous tension had begun to settle in the room but it wasn't coming from her. Effie was past the stage of being anxious. She had said what she meant to said. There was only relief. The same couldn't be said about Haymitch as he stood in front of her, frozen. He blinked once, twice and he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

Even as she stood there watching him, Effie knew he was trying to process his emotions; to understand what it was that he was feeling and what it meant. Haymitch had always been that person to push everything down, to bury it so deep inside and forget everything with alcohol. It was almost instinct and for the past five years, whatever he had felt for her, no matter how infinitesimally small, he had buried it, not once giving any of it a second thought. It was safer that way.

"Do you still love her?" Effie whispered softly, not wanting to surprise him. She reached out for him, tracing a path at the base of his throat. "You took off that silver chain she gave but …. Do you still – "

She didn't think he would answer, and if he did she didn't know what she was expecting.

"No," he shook his head, his voice strained. Haymitch took her wandering hands into his own. "I haven't – haven't loved her in a long while. I can' remember what she looks like," he mused. "I think… that I might have been holding on to the idea of her, somethin' innocent from my past. You were right. She was a ghost and I can't… I don't remember how she made me feel. But you, I know how you – "

He stopped abruptly. Effie nodded, clutching on to his arms before she collapsed. How long had she wanted to hear that? How long had she waited for him to let the past go?

"I don't have a reason to be angry," he said. Haymitch brushed his thumb across her cheek. "It was your vote. It is your right. I should – should accept that."

"But I let you down," she said in a small voice, "and I'm sorry."

He tilted his head, studying her.

"Nothin' to be sorry," he told her. "You know, sweetheart, you're a good person. You try all the time to be a good wife and a good mother, and you are. You will meet someone who will be good to you."

Haymitch took a step towards her.

"I am not that man," his voice was thick with emotions and Effie was suddenly so afraid of what he would say. "In that booth, I chose the second option without a single thought for you. But you…" he rested his forehead against her. His grey eyes clouded with self-loathing and sorrow before he blinked it away.

"Haymitch…" she gripped his wrist, a silent warning for him to stop and to let the matter rest. She didn't want to hear it. She wanted to cover her ears and drown out his voice.

"I told Katniss a long, long time ago that she could have lived a thousand lifetimes and not deserve that boy but," he chuckled bitterly, "I might as well have been talking 'bout myself. I could live a thousand years, sweetheart, and never deserve you. You think I am a good man but I am not."

His smile was hollow and pained, and when he gave her a chaste kiss on her lips, it felt like a thousand apologies.

this chapter took me days to write but i'm happy with how it turned out so i hope you do too. one more chapter left!

as always, drop a review to let me know your opinion on it! see you next week.