Chapter 35

The next day, Peeta and I head to Gale's house, specifically to ask him if he knew anyone who would be interested in helping us reconstruct the bakery. We had a small argument over Gale. Mostly because I was accusing Peeta of harping over the past, but we settled our differences temporarily when the bread in Peeta's oven began to burn.

It unsettles me to find that me and Peeta are being so snappish to each other. But I'm sure that the past few days of us pushing each other around and our own personal stresses have taken their toll on us and that we are just tired. I plan to take Peeta to the lake so we can cool our tempers in the winter wilderness.

As we reach Gale's house in a stiff silence, I hear Peeta sigh. "Look, I'm sorry," he says exasperated. "I just want you to give him another chance now that he's-"

"He killed my sister. I don't care if he doesn't remember. What's done is done," I growl lowly, before knocking on the door.

Peeta lets out another long sigh. "But you gave me another chance when I tried to-"

He doesn't finish because Gale opens the door. He immediately welcomes in, no hesitation whatsoever, and quickly helps us by making a few phone calls to some friends he happens to remember from his 'life' back in District 12.

As much as I would like to hide it, it hurts that Gale can memorize phone numbers of people he hasn't seen in years yet he can't even remember a single day we spent together, hunting and laughing together.

He manages to get his friend, Thom, to helps us with our construction project. He hands us a phone number and an address scribbled messily on a slip of paper. "He's an old friend of mine from when I used to work in the coal mines," he explains, shaking Peeta's hand firmly with an easy-going grin. "I'm sure he will even give you a discounted price."

Peeta talks amiably with Gale for a while as I peruse his living room slowly. Gale has some pictures of his family. Posy and Vick, playing together on a tire swing hanging from a tree. Hazelle, standing in a kitchen with a warm smile gracing her cheeks. There's also one with Gale and Madge. I'm surprised at this one. I've never seen the two interact closely. But as I look closer, I realize that the corner of the picture is labeled.

74th annual Hunger Games Reaping celebration.

I feel sick to my stomach. So he was here celebrating with Madge while I was preparing for the fight of my life? He was here, celebrating his last year of not being chosen, while I was dealing with more people than I had ever seen in my life.

The urge to rip the picture up springs up, but I squash it down.

Its not my place to judge Gale. Not when I ended up with Peeta. Not when I hadn't known how he felt as I spent a good portion of the Games gallivanting around and kissing Peeta.

Peeta calls out for me and motions that we have to get going if we're going to place our order today. I bid a tight goodbye to Gale, who doesn't seem to notice how tense my voice is.

Peeta and I walk crisply down to the address listed on the paper. I can feel how tense Peeta is. Perhaps he's worried he'll set me off again. But I ignore it. Right now, the important thing is getting to Thom so we can start the bakery. So we can start helping Peeta.

Thom, it turns out, is no older than Gale. He's only a few years older than we are, but he looks younger. It must be because he hasn't been through two Games and a war, I think wryly, but scold myself immediately afterwards.

Thom agrees enthusiastically to take on the job and immediately tells us he will call a few of the workers that he knows that will help him. It takes him a while to figure out how to use the telephone on the wall, since all homes have just had them installed, but soon, he's telling us that they would be ready to work the next day and to order the materials.

Peeta takes me to the Justice Building then, still not saying much of anything. But before we approach the steps, I instinctively take his hand to help him up the icy steps. He doesn't pull away and keeps his fingers wrapped around mine as we enter the cement structure together.

Peeta sets an order for construction supplies while I stand beside him, still holding his hand. I watch as he instructs the Capitol attendant on exactly the kind of details he wants on the materials, his words confident and his eyes focused solely on the forms in front of him.

I smirk to myself. Perhaps he wanted this more than he really knew he did.

As Peeta signs off on the materials order, I look across the room to find the marriage broker's desk. There's a couple there, one that I don't recognize at all. However, what strikes me the most about the couple is the fact that the man is olive-skinned, dark haired, gray-eyed. And the woman next to him is the absolute definition of Merchant. Blond locks. Blue eyes.

Their arms are slung around each others' waists as they hold each other close, side by side. Their heads are bent together as they listen to the marriage broker's words carefully before the man nods and signs off on the paper eagerly. The woman follows suit, and before I know it, the man is laughing. He's laughing loudly, picking up the woman by the waist and spinning her around. Her smile is radiant, one of pure happiness and joy. And when her feet touch the ground again, the man pulls her into such a passionate, loving kiss that I'm squirming as I watch.

The whole thing gets to me. Merchants and Seam folk usually don't mix. I'm surprised to find that now things have changed. Drastically.

I'm also a little embarrassed to realize that I had been wondering what it would be like if that were me and Peeta.

Would we be here just like that if we were going to get married? The thought of marriage never crossed my mind up until now and I'm not even sure if I like it.

But as I look at the pure happiness etched on both of their faces as they rush out of the Justice Building, I can't help but think that Peeta would be just as happy, if not happier, than the two of them if one day he married some girl who gave him just as much love as he gave her.

There's an awful twisting sensation in my chest at that thought. Another girl running down those steps with Peeta. My Peeta.

"Hey, everything's set and ready to go." Peeta's voice pulls me from my reverie. He looks puzzled as he follows my gaze, but the man and woman are gone. "Something wrong?"
"No no," I say quickly. I somehow don't want to breach the topic of marriage with Peeta. "Its fine. I was just wondering how long the bakery would take to build," I lie.

Peeta chuckles. "So hasty," he rumbles as he takes my arm in his and leads me to the door. "The shipment will be in tomorrow with the next train. Paylor put all of our deliveries on express shipment, so we get them as soon as possible."

"That's generous of her," I say, just trying to keep conversation going while I try to control my scrambled thoughts of marriage and Peeta and love. Then I notice the direction that Peeta is dragging me. "Peeta, the property is that way, not wherever we're going."

He shrugs. "We don't really have to go see it," he says, but I know he's really just avoiding having to see the flat empty space his whole childhood had been.

"Yes, we do." I tug my arm free, leaving Peeta standing in the road, shuffling his feet in the snow. "Come on."

"You go on home then," he says finally. "I... I don't want to be disturbed. Not when I'm there."

I understand. I like being alone when I grieve for Prim. For Finnick. For Boggs. For those who sacrificed their lives.

So I agree to let him grieve his family like I've grieved for mine.

"I'll see you at home then," I say quietly. His eyes are downcast. "Yeah."

Before I can stop myself, I lean in and place a small kiss on his cheek. I don't linger there for more than a second, but I end it quickly before saying, "Okay", turning on my heel, and walking away slowly, wondering why I did it.