"You didn't sleep in your room last night," says Gale.
The atmosphere at breakfast is rather pleasant and homely. Darius has lighted the fire and Lavinia has served us milk and orange juice, combined with toast and goat cheese, bacon and coffee. Gale and Rory have been reading the newspaper and making remarks about one or two senators I know nothing about while Hazelle makes amiable conversation with Johanna and Posy.
To my surprise, Gale has kept his seat next to me and no one seems to know I broke off our engagement. He's leaning close to me and has tried to touch my hand more than once. Peeta hasn't shown any reaction except a slight frown that disappeared almost as soon as it came, but I can feel his eyes on us.
Everyone gets silent and turns to me at Gale's words, probably trying to decide if they should acknowledge his comment. Finally, Hazelle turns to her eldest son and asks rigidly:
"How do you know that?"
It's happening, I think. There's no way I can dodge his unspoken question. I'm dressed in my old blue dress, the one that I wore on the night of the sinking, instead of one of the stunning dresses Gale chose for me. Peeta is also wearing the clothes he wore on that fateful night. By itself it should mean that we plan to leave.
I wonder if it's as obvious as I imagine it is. Do these people know I slept in Peeta's bed last night? If not the Hawthorne family, perhaps the help took notice. Yesterday, Hazelle remarked they always seem to know everything. But I'm not only afraid of what they know: it upsets me that Gale went to my room after I broke off the engagement.
Suddenly embarrassed and with the whole family staring at him, Gale lowers his eyes and eats in silence.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Hawthorne. Miss Katniss was with me," says Johanna, scowling at me for half a second with what seems disgust. "We still have many nightmares about our ordeal and I thought she would feel better with my company."
I glance at Peeta's impassible features; nothing seems to betray his emotions. If I didn't know better, I'd think he believes Johanna's explanation. I feel disappointed that he's such a good liar. I hear his voice in my head saying that if I fell for him it would be Gale's problem and not his. He hasn't even tried to explain it last night; he knew there was no need. But then, we only spoke the necessary last night. We couldn't risk being heard.
Suddenly I'm unsure of him. Will he throw me to the wolves?
It doesn't matter, I think. I'm leaving anyway, so I must accelerate the process.
My teeth are chattering and my right foot marks the rhythm of my heartbeat on the floor when I find the courage to speak. "Can we talk in private?" I ask Gale.
"Now?" he asks, with a mix of fear and pleasure in his features.
"If you can, yes."
"Good, I want to talk to you too. Come with me to the office."
The last thing I see is Peeta looking at his plate and every pair of eyes wondering what is happening between Gale and me.
I follow Gale through the big corridor to his office. There's a big picture of his father behind his desk, his inspiration, seemingly staring at me. That nice man died with my father and it disconcerts me. Gale leaves the door open, as the others shouldn't be able to hear us in the dining room. He sits on a sofa and points to the place beside him for me to sit, but I think it would be too intimate for what I'm trying to say.
Instead, I kneel in front of him, handing him the diamond ring and enouncing the dialogue I had scripted on my mind.
"Gale, I can't express enough appreciation for our friendship all these years. You're very important to me -"
He refuses to take the diamond, choosing to fold my fingers around it instead.
"Keep the ring, Catnip. I know you're traumatized, but things will get better. I'll do everything in my power to make you love me again."
I shake my head, feeling guilty by the impossibility. Gale doesn't deserve what I'm about to say. He does, however, deserve someone better than me. He deserves a woman who doesn't fall for the first man she talks to on a small trip, that leaves his warmth and love to risk the uncertain.
The fact is, I don't know what I'm going to do if Peeta isn't serious about me. I hate to depend on any of them, but I have no means of survival here other than their help.
"I'm leaving today," my voice is a whisper.
Gale is visibly taken aback, but maintains his composure. "You have nowhere to go."
"I'll find a way."
He exhales audibly and rubs his temples. "It was the factory, wasn't it?"
"No, Gale, I swear it wasn't the factory."
He looks at me with big, sad eyes. "Is it my family? I told you they'll move –"
"No, Gale. It isn't your family."
He shakes his head slowly. "Then what?"
"You don't have any fault in this," I say, and the tears that have been welling up in my eyes start falling uncontrollably. It's the moment of truth. "I have feelings for Peeta."
There it is, the truth finally exposed. I can't feel my body and my mouth is dry; I'm frightened of what he'll do or say about it. He doesn't react, however. He blinks thrice.
"For Mellark?"
I nod. My body isn't so numb anymore but, now that I can feel it again, I realize my nerves have returned in full force. Gale is so quiet I'm suddenly afraid that he'll beat me, or worse. I contemplate yelling for Peeta or any of the others, but I'm not a yeller. I could die, but I couldn't shout.
"I don't believe you," he states simply.
More tears fall from my eyes. "It's true."
Gale shakes his head, incredulous. His mouth opens, but nothing seems to come out.
"When did it start?" he asks finally.
"On the Titanic," I say.
This is the moment in which Gale seems to understand what I'm saying. Finally losing his calm, he punches the wall until his knuckles bleed. Horrified, I try to step back, but my dress doesn't make it easy.
"Does he reciprocate?" he asks. "Oh, you don't even need to answer that. How far did you go?"
"We kissed," I reply, terrified he will punch me next.
But Gale grabs my wrist with remarkable mildness, contrasting with his mood. "How many times?" he asks.
"Some times," I reply.
Gale sighs and passes his hands through his hair nervously. I believe he's trying to control his anger, but all I can see is his blood and tears. I didn't expect to see him crying again after last night, and there's no way I can bring him comfort without giving him hope. I choose not to react.
"I can learn to live with that," he says. "But I don't want you to see him ever again."
It makes me speechless that Gale still wants me after all I've told him. I've admitted a betrayal and my feelings for another man, but he doesn't seem to understand what it truly means.
"Why did you do it, Catnip? For pity?"
"I don't pity him," I reply immediately. "Listen to me, please. Peeta and I are going away together."
Gale stands up quickly. "You can't go. I'm willing to overlook what happened, you just need to give me some time to adjust to the idea."
"I don't want you to adjust, Gale. You'll never trust me again and you'll resent me if I stay."
"This kind of thing happens in other families too. We'll pay him to go back to Panem, he'll never cross our path again and we'll forget this episode. I swear we will."
I shake my head, nervous because Gale doesn't seem to be paying any attention to what I'm saying. Before I can think about it, my mouth inflicts the last blow. "You're not listening to me. I want to go with Peeta," I say. "I think I may love him."
Gale gasps and I gasp as well. When his eyes lock with mine, they are unfocused and overwhelmed. For the first time, his anger seems to be directed at me.
"He's a damn cripple, Catnip!" he yells.
"He's not!" I yell back through my tears. "Anyone could have had that accident, even you!"
"Is it because he's a merchant? Because he's inherited a bakery now that his family is dead? Look at what we own! You're royalty here!"
"I can't believe you think I'm moved by money after all we've been through. I've worked hard to provide for my family for years now. I'm the sole provider since I was twelve."
"The merchant status helps, right?" says Gale, ignoring my statement.
"You're measuring me for yourself," I reply. "You're the one who cares about status, not me. Why is it that strange to think that I felt a connection with him?"
"Catnip, you and Mellark don't have anything in common."
That is a valid concern. I've been trying to avoid thinking of it myself, but Peeta and I have nothing to keep us together: no friends, no interests, nothing. In fact, we don't know each other at all. If I admit it to Gale, however, he'll think he can talk me into staying and that isn't true.
"Not at the surface," I reply stupidly.
"Do you think those damn merchants on the ship liked you, Catnip? That they would even give their time of day if they didn't want to be close to my money?"
They never did before, so I'm sure they wouldn't, but it doesn't change anything. "That didn't stop you from putting them with me. I told you I didn't want to travel with them!" I accuse. "And I don't care if they did it out of greed, I came to love them all!"
Gale snorts. "Three or four days is not enough time to know or love people. You used to call the woman a witch."
"I like her now! I like it that she stayed for her sons!" I vociferate before I realize there's no point in arguing about dead people.
Gale shakes his head. "You're delusional. And do you think Mellark wants you? He wants to use you and throw you away; that's what merchants do to the Seam girls. Tell me an exception and I'll drop the case."
I don't know any exception. Many girls who lived next to me in the Seam fell for the stories of merchant men who claimed to love them but, after all, those men never wanted to pursue anything serious with them. In the end, they were named bad things by people and avoided by the decent families – ruining even the Seam men who accepted to overlook their pasts - while the merchant men kept their poses and good name. That may well be the case now, but at this point I don't mind being used by Peeta. I think I want it.
Gale holds both my wrists. "Katniss, I'm serious. Stay. Don't fall for that, you'll regret it in the end. Mellark doesn't understand you and you don't understand him, it will never work. You and me, we understand each other's ways."
His logic is completely right and it breaks me into a soft whisper. "Gale, please, don't make this harder."
Noticing the small victory, he keeps talking sense into me. "Don't give up on yourself to become a cripple's caretaker."
"Gale –"
"All right, then. We'll keep that option open with Mellark. The only thing I ask you is to stay more days and give me a chance to win you back."
He's lying, I can see that in his eyes. If I accept his proposition, he'll send Peeta away when I least expect it and I'll never be able to find him again.
"I don't think it's possible anymore," I say.
"I know it is," says Gale. "I'll take you to places, restaurants, the theater. We'll go to dancing balls, we'll hunt, we'll –"
"Gale, stop," I sob. "I'm leaving this morning and there's nothing that can be done to change it."
He looks at me furiously, irritated, and says something that shocks me.
"Let me kiss you."
I'm perplexed. "No," I say, disgusted by the request. "I'm terribly sorry for doing this to you. I know it will never be enough, but I'll pay you for everything when I find a job."
Gale pulls me to him, impatient and demanding, as if our engagement is still on the plans and we are only sneaking away from the others. His fingers press my arms so tightly they should hurt, but strangely they don't. I can see love in Gale's eyes: he's searching for something he thinks he lost, begging for my acceptance, but I have nothing to give him right now, not even compassion. I feel hollow and disconnected from my body.
"You'll never know how it could have been if you don't try."
I contemplate giving him what he wants to that he lets me go away, but I decide against it. It would be a betrayal to Peeta; probably that's what Gale wants to get from this. I think he won't kiss me unless I allow it, but he'll try to wear me down until I let it happen.
"Let me go, Gale."
"Are you afraid that your lover will get jealous of your fiancé?" he snaps.
"I don't want it," I say, terrified that he will indeed kiss me and Peeta finds out.
"At least then we'll know you tried to make this work."
A commanding voice interrupts our altercation. "She said she doesn't want it." Gale lets go of me and we both look at the entrance of the office. Peeta is standing there, apparently calm, but his cheeks are slightly flushed and his eyes look almost feral. I feel an intense relief that he has come to help me.
Gale goes into a rage at the sight of him.
"I want you out of this property right now."
Peeta nods quietly, embarrassed. I deposit the diamond ring on the table and join him but, before we leave the room, Gale attacks Peeta with a punch. Peeta doesn't let it happen, though, stopping the motion of Gale's hand instantly. I knew him to be strong, but I didn't know he had this strength and good reflexes; God help anyone he ever wants to attack.
"Won't you hit back?" Gale asks, shocked and definitely humiliated. Peeta shakes his head with shame.
I can hear the others' steps getting closer, rushing and speaking between themselves, then entering the room and witnessing the scene. I can't help but grimace at the thought of their judgment. Hazelle watched me grow up; she always took care of me when my mother couldn't. I have shown no appreciation for her or her son, who'll be a laughing stock for the New York society from now on.
Seemingly unaware of their presence, Gale goes ballistic. "You'll pay me for everything I spent on your family," he tells Peeta. "Every single penny. All the five Titanic tickets."
"Did you buy them?" I ask.
"Of course I did," Gale says mockingly. "Did they make you think they were rich?"
I'm done with the conversation about money; it's too snobby for me. When we lived in Twelve City, Gale always resented the merchants because they had status and we didn't. He seems to be compensating for that now with his superior behavior.
"Peeta will pay for his own ticket. The tickets of the others are between you and them, no one else," I state. "I swear I'll pay for mine too once I get a job."
Peeta approaches Gale's desk and reveals the worn envelope that contains his money. "Here, I'll pay for my ticket and Katniss' too," he starts putting money on the desk, next to the ring. "How much was it? I want to pay for our stay here and for all the expenses you ever had with Katniss in Panem. I don't want her to have any debt."
Gale doesn't say a word; I don't think he expected this. I look at Peeta in awe as he keeps depositing money on the table, trying to make a mental estimation of how much he should pay for everything he spoke about. I see his pile of money getting thinner and thinner; he's losing most of his savings with this exchange.
This should feel patronizing. I've always been the breadwinner of my family and this means I'm incompetent and stupid. I should be upset that Peeta is spending his hard-earned money on me. Worse, it's disturbing to be the subject of a transaction between two men. It seems I'm owned by Gale and that I'm being bought by Peeta.
It's not me he's buying, I have to remind myself - it's my freedom.
All I can think about is how this proves Peeta doesn't think I am Gale's problem. Peeta has made me his problem. And, although it's crushing to thinking of myself as a problem or a burden, right now I'm happy to know I matter to him. "That's more than enough money," I whisper after a while, and Peeta saves the rest on the envelope.
"Is this it, then?" Gale asks, staring at me in astonishment. "Is this how you repay me for everything I've done to you? You run away with a cripple?"
"Doing things for people isn't a form of currency," Peeta states simply, which angers Gale.
In a fit of rage, Gale throws everything away from the table: his possessions, Peeta's money, my ring.
Hazelle's screams frighten me. I don't know who she's yelling to; I can only hear the blood pulsing in my ears.
"You have ten minutes to leave this house with your circus attraction," Gale tells me aggressively, taking me by the arm and shoving me into the corridor when I don't react in time. "If I see your cripple in ten minutes, I'll shoot him."
He gets back into the office, sits on his chair and looks at his watch. Peeta puts his hand on my shoulder reassuringly and takes me to my bedroom so that I can collect my things. We go to his bedroom right after. We put our toothbrushes together with my night clothes, the ones I brought from the Titanic, and we wrap them with Peeta's blanket. Then, we leave the house in front of everyone's distressed eyes, under Hazelle's questions, Rory's silence, Vick's pleadings and the sorrowful stares of the help. All this time I drag Posy around the house, because she's hugging my waist and yelling in despair.
Gale shows up once again and follows us as we head to the gate.
"I'll make sure no bakery gives you a job, Mellark. You're done in New York. And you, Catnip, you'll have a place here when he discards you. You won't be my wife, but I respect your mother and sister too much to let you starve."
I don't respond, nor does Peeta. When the gates are closed behind us, I turn back to take a look at the beautiful property that could have been mine.
I wipe the tears that don't seem to stop falling, thinking about the treatment Gale gave me. Peeta sees me crying and staring at the house and looks saddened.
"I don't know what I was expecting," I say. "It could have been much worse."
"You hoped he would understand," Peeta says sadly. "You're human."
I nod and we walk away in silence, his crutch beating on the pavement. It's a beautiful neighborhood, full of levity and privilege. Not my place, not the old Gale's place. Or did I ever know who he was then?
Reaching the corner of the street, a sound unsettles me. It's Johanna running behind us. It occurs to me that I left without a simple explanation or goodbye, and that she deserved far more from me. My regret breaks into a fog of happiness when she throws herself to my arms, apparently not offended by my lack of care.
"Katniss!" she exclaims. "I was right about you, you don't have a brain."
Seeing her worried face makes my lips quiver. "I'm sorry, Johanna."
"This needs to be fast, I can't be seen with you. Mr. Hawthorne is saying that whoever comes after you is a traitor," she says. "There. Take this."
She takes several pieces of bread and the same pastries we had at breakfast from under her overcoat, unwraps our small bundle of clothes and puts them inside.
"I stole them when everyone was distracted by your fight," she explains. "I don't know if you have any money, but don't do anything drastic to get it. Ration your food if you need to. I'll have a paycheck by the end of the month and I'll be able to help you then. Write me as soon as you can, but do it under a pseudonym so that no one suspects it's you. Just don't forget to write."
"Thank you for everything, Johanna," I say with tears in my eyes. "Don't let them know about your problem. Ask Lavinia to help you wash your hair. I think she'll understand; she's very kind."
"Thank you, Miss Mason," says Peeta sincerely.
"I'll miss you," I say. "I won't forget to write."
"Goodbye," Johanna replies, rather laconic, disappearing as quickly as she had shown up.
We're taken aback by this interruption, still unable to process the events of this morning, dreading to put them into words and make them real in our minds. Everything is a blur. I'm usually not good with the sort of thing that involves emotions, and Peeta doesn't seem willing to upset me further. We debate over who should take the bundle of clothes; he thinks it's him, because he's stronger. I think it's me, because I have two feet. In the end, I win, and we walk away.
