A month has passed since we had our honeymoon. Our bakery has been reopened and it has been hugely successful so far, to the point we are already planning to build another bakery in the old Seam.

Peeta has spent his mornings there, teaching the staff how to bake bread in the Mellark way, but in the afternoons he's at home with me, working on the children's book.

Our own home book was completed after we added Annie's picture with her son to the last page, a symbol of hope and continuation. On the first days we opened the book almost every day and cried so much it's now sealed with our tears. Then, we closed it and put it on a shelf to be read one day in the future.

Today is an exception to our new daily routine. Peeta decided to stay home this morning and surprise me with something I've been asking him for a while: our family portrait. This includes the two of us and two stubborn cats that won't collaborate in the least. My husband carried a big mirror to the studio like it was nothing, put it in front of us and started working in the large canvas.

When the basis of his work is done and he starts actually painting the details, the cats start jumping around and end up in the table where Peeta is mixing the pigments. Drops of yellow, green and black paint stick on the canvas, in the parts that are supposed to be my face and right arm. I scold the cats and prepare to send them back to the sitting room when Peeta decides to intervene in their favor.

"Actually I think you'd look good in those colors," he says, scrubbing my arm, cheek and nose with a paint brush before I can understand what's happening.

"Peeta!" I yell, dirty from paint, "How will you paint me now?"

"Like this," he chuckles, "This way I won't have to start again."

I scowl deeply. He seems to know he has gone too far. With a comprehensive look, he opens his legs to welcome me and my outrage into his arms. His hands travel softly to my hips to pull me closer to him.

"Take your revenge," he says seriously, staring right into my eyes, "I deserve it."

I smirk. Oh, I will. I'm going to avenge myself. Only if I can reach the paint brushes too…

We hear a knock at the door and get startled.

I hear Hazelle stop sweeping the floor in the sitting room to ask:

"Do you want me to open the door, Mr. Peeta?"

"Please, Hazelle, if you can," Peeta replies, "We'll be there in a minute."

We ear the door open to muffled sounds of exclamations.

"Katniss! Mr. Peeta! It's my Gale!" Hazelle screams, obviously crying, after a while.

My chest almost explodes from shock. "What is Gale doing here?" I ask.

"I don't know, but we should go now," Peeta says.

I hold my husband's hand and even there I can feel his strong heartbeat. He's much more nervous than I am and I can't help but feeling sorry for him.

"You don't need to be holding my hand," he says earnestly, "You don't need to prove anything to me, because I trust you."

I look at him and remember the details he told me about his torture. No, this is a dangerous situation. It's important to deal with it with the maximum care possible.

"I'm holding your hand because we won't be able to talk and I want us to communicate," I say, "If you feel a flashback coming you'll squeeze my hand three times, will you? That's our code."

He nods with a smile and sweetly gives me one last kiss.

We go hand in hand to the sitting room to find an emotional Hazelle hanging to her oldest son. She asks us for permission to go home and make a special lunch for her family. We're invited too, but we say it's a family thing and we don't want to intrude. Gale looks a little bit disappointed by that, but says nothing.

Everything about Gale is more intense than I remembered. His handsome looks, his height, his commanding presence. But he doesn't look so young anymore; he looks more like the head of a family in his mid-thirties. Glancing at him, with his colors and physical traits, I see my father coming home from work and feel a lump in my throat.

"You're looking better than last time, Mellark," he says to Peeta, and then turns to me with an uncertain smile, "Catnip. Look at you."

I don't know exactly why it happens, but the mention of the nickname Gale used to give me pains and irks me beyond measure.

"Catnip died in the City Circle at the Capitol more than one year ago, along with her sister," I state dryly. My mouth relaxes into a sad smile and I extend my empty hand to him, as if we're meeting for the first time, "I'm Katniss."

Gale is taken aback by my words and shakes his head. "I can't forgive myself either," he says with shiny eyes.

I want this matter to be over before I cry. "There's nothing to forgive," I shrug, "We are both murderers of kids, so we're the same. It isn't our fault that we were pawns in other peoples' games."

Gale doesn't seem to know how to respond, and he's beginning to stare at the way my hand is so tightly joined to my husband's. Peeta takes control of the conversation.

"What brings you here?" he asks with a welcoming expression.

"A big mess, to be honest. I changed quarters and got a new address, so all my mail was misdirected. Everything that was sent to my old mail was lost and I only received it yesterday. I read your letter and took the first train back to Twelve."

I can feel the moment Peeta's hand loses its strength and I look at him to see how pale he has become.

"What letter?" I ask.

"I may have written Gale a letter saying you loved him and were waiting for him to come," Peeta says through gritted teeth, "I told him that our marriage wasn't real."

The shock almost makes me let go of his hand.

"What? Peeta, why did you do that?"

"It was on the day we got married," he explains. "You were so against it, but accepted right away when they said it would make Gale come to lead the Army. I thought –"

I don't listen to the rest. So the mysterious letter he sent on that day was for Gale; there was never another girl he had to leave to be with me. The shadow of that girl has been shelved in a distant compartment of my mind for a while now, but I have never completely forgotten about her. Now that I know Peeta never set his eyes on anyone else, I want to kiss him from head to toe, send Gale away and lock ourselves at home until tomorrow.

But I can see why that would be rude. So, instead, I squeeze Peeta's sweaty hand, intertwining our fingers deeply, and turn to Gale.

"There was a mistake, Gale. This marriage is very real. It was arranged at first and we had a rough start because we doubted each other's feelings and second guessed everything. That's why Peeta was confused and sent you that letter. I'm sorry."

"I'm the one who must apologize," says a stressed out Peeta, "Katniss and I were not together during the first weeks of our marriage. Had you received that letter at that time, things would have been even more complicated than they were. I was so stupid, but I really thought I was being helpful."

Gale snorts and shakes his head, obviously wounded. "Something tells me it wouldn't have made a difference if I had been here earlier, would it? I should have known it when I saw the pearl –"

"The pearl?" I ask. I never showed him my pearl, he must have seen it in the Games.

"The pearl Mellark always had with him at the Capitol. It was the same pearl you always had it you back in Thirteen."

"When did you see Peeta at the Capitol?" I ask, confused.

"Gale visited me a few times before he went to district Two," Peeta grins, looking at Gale, "He was the expert in district Twelve in my early days of treatment. We played a lot of real or not real. Dr. Aurelius even said he wouldn't have allowed me to come so soon if it was not for his help."

"I had no idea," I reply stupidly, "You didn't tell me anything."

It's a ridiculous thing for me to say. I was the one who refused to talk about Gale. Peeta seems to read my mind because he says the same thing.

"But you said you didn't want to talk about –" he starts, "Well, Gale was the one who told me that the pearl mattered to you," he says, "I had no idea until that day, or I'd have sent it back to you sooner."

"I never showed you any pearl –" I say, bemused, to Gale.

Gale snorts again. "Katniss, I'm not stupid. I saw you clutch something the whole time in your pocket and this guy did the same thing whenever I visited him. I had to ask him what he had hidden there so that I could understand. Thinking better, maybe I'm definitely stupid. I knew I had no chance the whole time, but you know, hope is a stubborn thing," Gale forces a chuckle, "Which one of you has the pearl now, by the way?"

"It's her," Peeta says, "I got it mailed to her on the next day."

I show Gale my necklace. The pearl is always with me, but usually hidden by clothes. Peeta got it altered for me when we commemorated two months of marriage. It is now attached to a gold chain and turned into this necklace so that I don't lose it again. But Gale looks heartbroken at the sight of it, so I hide the pearl again.

"I never thought I would see Katniss Everdeen wearing jewelry," he shrugs and looks right into my eyes, "One year later I find you with a necklace and a ring. You didn't even want to get married."

I don't know what to say. I didn't want to get married before the games because it seemed impossible to marry Peeta, and I didn't want it after because it was forced, that's why. But I'm afraid to say the wrong thing and hurt Gale even more, so I say nothing. We all sit together in silence for a while.

"How's Sae?" Gale asks after a couple of minutes.

"Going strong," Peeta replies, "We retired her a few weeks ago."

"How do you even know Greasy Sae was working here?" I ask Gale, rolling my eyes. I'm looking like a fool because I know nothing about my own life.

"We asked her to take care of you when you were here alone," Gale shrugs matter-of-factly, "I thought you knew it."

"You? You and Peeta?" I glare at my husband. He didn't tell me anything.

"I had no way to get in touch with Sae when I was in treatment, and Gale had no way to pay her for the food and services," Peeta says sheepishly, rubbing the back of my hand.

"Think of it as a joint effort," Gale makes an attempt at a smile.

These two guys were taking care of me from a distance when I thought I had been abandoned by both. Tears of gratitude come to my eyes, but I don't lose the chance to take a jab at them for not telling me.

"You guys took it literally that I couldn't survive without you," I say, sounding more bitter than I'd like to.

Gale is taken aback and blushes at least one shade darker. He wasn't aware I knew what he had said. Peeta, who already knows I heard their conversation and got equally angry at both of them, grins in amusement. It has become a recurrent joke between us. Whenever I eat his cheese buns, I say jokingly that he's the one I could never survive without.

"Katniss, I -" Gale starts.

"No, Gale, it's okay. You were right about that," I say with an amused smile.

"Was he?" Peeta asks, shocked.

"Yeah," I reply, but don't say anything else about it. He smiles.

"How long are you going to stay in Twelve?" Peeta asks Gale.

"I'm leaving on the train tonight," Gale says.

Since Lana made her statement for the television, we have had an Avox influx of almost seven thousand people. Now, district Twelve has a train coming every morning and leaving every evening.

"But you're going to be back to command our Army soon, won't you?" Peeta asks.

"No," Gale shakes his head, "There's nothing left for me here. I don't feel anything good for this place."

"But it's your homeland," I say, almost shocked.

"All my pain is contained here," he says bitterly, "What about you two? Where are you planning to go when Katniss' sentence is lifted?"

"We're going to stay here," Peeta smiles like the question is outrageous, "It's our home."

"Wouldn't you like to live in a place that is less… backwards? Without the bad memories?"

"No, never. I'm rooted in this land like a katniss tuber," I state.

Gale nods, dismayed, and looks around. "Don't you guys have dreams? Goals?" he asks.

"I'd like to stay here with Katniss and spend my days baking, painting and raising children," says Peeta.

"Katniss isn't going to have children," Gale replies, but his voice is unusually uncertain.

"We'll see," I swear I can see Peeta's eyes shine with the challenge.

"I want to create jobs and the chance of a better life for the children of Twelve," I add quickly, "And let's change this subject."

Gale shakes his head like we are a lost cause in his eyes.

"So you're both living In this house now?" he asks, looking at Peeta. "Is your old house empty?"

"It was used as a provisory bakery for a while, but we reopened Mellark's a week ago," I say with pride, "We still employ a handful of people in our other house. They cook for our employees and their families."

"You give them food for free?" Gale asks, skeptical of the benefits of such an idea.

"It's not charity," Peeta quickly replies, "They work a lot and we want to return the favor."

Gale almost smiles, "You're a good guy, Mellark. I see someone has taught you the Seam's ways," he turns to me, "I just can't imagine her as the owner of that bakery. Sorry."

And he actually snorts and shakes his head thinking about it.

"Have you seen our car?" I ask him.

"It's Katniss' pride nowadays," Peeta says with a chuckle.

"Yeah, nice car. Who drives it?"

"Both of us," Peeta says, "And sometimes our friend Bligh."

"I don't even know who that is," Gale shrugs.

But he doesn't have to wait a lot to meet Bligh. Hazelle has seen Haymitch on her way out and told him Gale is here. Haymitch really needs to have a conversation with Gale and after a while sends Bligh for him.

In the end, our first encounter with Gale is much more distant and depressing than I had expected. There are no hugs or parting words of goodbye. Gale seems almost happy to be rid of this awkward situation. I can't even feel sad to see him go. Once he leaves, I turn to Peeta and say:

"You never told me how you ended up with the pearl."

He smiles sadly.

"It was on the day you executed Coin. Your things fell off when you were taken away. Everything was a mess after that and the only thing I could retrieve was the pearl."

Recollecting the fatidic day, I take a quick look at his hand. My teeth from when I bit him are still engraved there and I remember he once said that he never wanted that scar to disappear.

"Your Katniss bite isn't fading," I say, and he grins.

"Oh, I'm not worried about that anymore," he says playfully, "If it fades, you can always bite me again."

There's a place where I have wanted to take Peeta for a long time, but the way there isn't easy and it takes some hours. I have never taken him there because of his bad leg, but Gale's visit prompts me to do it.

"How is your leg today?" I ask.

"Not bad, why?"

"Let's pack things for the night. We're going for a walk after lunch."

At my request, he gets into the car and goes to the bakery to get bread and pastries. I stay at home preparing our backpacks.

So, after lunch, we depart to the woods with my bow and arrow.

"Are we hunting?" he asks.

"No way, you'd scare the game off," I reply.

To be honest with myself, I'm not sure if I even like hunting anymore. I did it for survival and I was exceptionally good at it, but is it what I want to do? Nowadays, I feel that I always have more appealing things to do, like driving or looking for plants in the woods. Being at home with Peeta is even better. I still hunt about once a month, though, in honor of my father. Sometimes I reflect on whether my father truly liked hunting or not, and I'm not sure of it either. I know he loved the plants, though.

"So you won't tell me where we're going?" Peeta asks me.

"You'll find out soon."

We stop for a while to rest and drink water.

"I want to ask you something else," I say.

He slides his fingers into mine.

"Then ask."

"The letter you wrote to me, what did it say?"

"I was an idiot for burning that letter," he blushes, "I wrote it on the day Gale told me about the pearl. It just said that I remembered, that I was getting better and that I still wanted you if you still wanted me."

I hug him and then we get up to walk again. I can see his limp become pronounced and I'm somewhat disappointed by that: it means we won't be able to come here very often.

After about three and a half hours we reach the lake. It is exactly like I recall it, just as it was when my father was alive. Peeta stands still, looking around in awe.

"This is magnificent," Peeta says, "I never thought this district could be so beautiful."

"I used to come here on hot summer Sundays with my father," I say wistfully, "We would leave early in the morning and hike farther into the woods. I don't even remember learning to swim, but I know it was here. I was so young when he taught me."

"Did your mother come here too?"

"I don't think so. Not with me, at least," I say, "At night, when we got home, she would pretend not to recognize me because I was so clean," I chuckle, "Then she'd cook up an amazing dinner of roasted duck and baked katniss tubers with gravy."

"I love your childhood memories," he hugs me lovingly, "How did your father get to know about this?"

"He found it while hunting and this became our sacred place. He said it was our kingdom, because only the two of us knew it existed. My dad sure knew how to make one feel special."

"Your father was a wonderful man," Peeta says with admiration, "No wonder your mother decided to run away with him."

"He was perfect," I confirm.

"I wish I could be like him," Peeta smiles.

I take my time to ponder on it. I love my father so much but, if I were to choose a man like him, wouldn't I choose Gale instead of Peeta? My dad was a hunter, a crafter, a miner, physically very active, someone who did rebellious things to help his family survive. That's the very definition of Gale. They even look the same.

But my father was also an artist, as he sang beautifully. He knew about plants and nature and everything beautiful. He was a smooth talker and had a charming presence. My dad was faithful and did everything for those he loved. His soul was caring and sensitive. He knew my mother was weak, but he didn't care about her faults because he loved her madly. Those are qualities that Gale doesn't fully possess, but Peeta does.

Everything comes up to the hope. The hope that made a merchant girl abandon the relative safety of her life to be in a place where she would most likely be in a permanent state of hunger. I understand that the qualities that made my dad fill the room whenever he came in are the same qualities that have made me long for Peeta's presence for almost eight years now.

"But you are," I say, finally, "You're just like him."

He shakes his head in denial, but grins, like he's thankful that I said it anyway.

We head to the house near the edge of the lake. I take the front and he follows me. That house is the only house that still remains, probably because it's made of concrete. There are small vestiges of other houses, but they are almost imperceptible now. The house has a floor, a roof and ceiling. Although only one of four glass windows remains, wavy and yellowed by time, it's good enough for us to spend the night.

"There's no plumbing and no electricity," I tell him, "But the fireplace still works. We can cook here."

Peeta gathers some wood, starts a fire and then looks outside.

"I'd love to swim in the lake," he says with regret as I put an old, worn out pan full of water on the fire, "But I didn't bring the protection for my leg."

"I'd be a worthless wife if I let it happen," I reply, taking the plastic cover from the backpack, "Take it."

As we get into the lake, I feel the muddy bottom beneath my toes. It's nothing like the crystal clear water of our private beach in district Four, but it's good nonetheless. The air smells of blossoms and greenery.

Without a life jacket on, I help Peeta float on his back for a while. After all the practice we had a month earlier, he's soon floating alone. I don't feel comfortable enough to leave him without assistance, though, so I stay close. I remember diving, turning somersaults and paddling around with my father. I was even here some times after our Games doing just that. But today I'll just stand guard.

Peeta stands in awe when he sees the orange skies of the sunset.

"Come here," he says after a while, "You, this lake, these woods and this sunset… This is the most beautiful thing I've ever witnessed in my whole life."

Getting close to my husband, I wrap my legs around his hips and make him look at me.

"I was serious when I said Gale was right about being with someone I couldn't survive without," I say, "It's not about money or food. What I really need to survive is this. It's this peace, this promise of rebirth, the idea that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. The hope that it can be good again. And only you can give me that."

I'm not sure if he understands what I've just said, but his face tells me he does.

We don't have much time to watch the sunset. We have to gather food, otherwise we will only have bread and pastries to eat. Ducks are easy pickings. I hunt one in a couple of minutes and we boil it in the hot water. I teach Peeta how to hand pluck it so that we do it fast. Then, we prepare the meat and cook it. I have brought the seasoning with me just in case I managed to hunt something. In the end, we eat the meat from the pan with our bare hands. It's served with bread and boiled katniss tubers.

"What would Effie say if she saw us now?" I ask, remembering the day she praised us for eating with decent manners.

As an answer, Peeta chuckles.

After dinner we are too tired to stay up, so we just extend a blanket and lie down together. We don't lose the chance of doing the things married couples do in this new location. After that, however, it seems that something is worrying Peeta.

"Did you bring Gale to this place before?" he asks.

"Yes. After the first Games, when I needed to talk to him in safety," I reply.

Peeta nods and looks around the house awkwardly.

"Did you kiss him here?"

I sit. "Of course not," I say. "I already told you this place used to belong to my father and me. It's not fit for that stuff."

He chuckles like he's trying to remind me of what we have just done here.

"Does it mean it belongs a little to me too now?" his face looks adorable, so I smile too.

"Yes," I say, "Now it belongs to the three of us in equal parts."