Peeta laughed down at Aran splashing the bathwater around, gurgling and chuckling as he soaked Peeta, kicking his chubby legs and waving his arms around as he played. Peeta might not have been able to swim, but his son loved the water.
"Daddy!" he heard Skye behind him. "Will you read me a bedtime story tonight?"
"Sure, sweetie," he answered, "you go choose a story while I finish up with putting your brother to bed, and then I'll be right in, okay?"
"Okay!" she smiled back, padding back to her room in bare feet.
Just as he lifted Aran from the bath, he heard his cell phone ringing downstairs.
"Agh!" he growled in frustration. His phone had been quiet all day. He'd been hoping that Finnick or Rye would call and suggest coming over to watch a game with him. But they knew it was his weekend with the kids and they probably thought he wouldn't be interested in sharing it. Before, if he couldn't pick up his phone for some reason, Katniss would do it for him, but as he stood there in the bathroom with his wet son wriggling in his arms, it came home to him again that this was his life now. Long evenings spent on his own once his babies were in bed, and Saturday nights spent catching up on laundry.
He sighed, pushing aside the hollow feeling that seemed to permanently live in his chest these days. At least having the kids around made it easier to keep his mind of everything he missed. He wondered idly when not being with Katniss would begin to get easier—and if she was finding it easier not being around him. They hadn't spoken to each other in over a week, and the only contact they'd shared was a few brief texts about arrangements for the kids. But he couldn't stop to wallow right now. He still needed put the kids to bed and clean up the kitchen after dinner and there was always laundry to be folded.
He towelled Aran dry and dressed him for bed, watching the little boy's blond eyelashes flutter as his eyes grew heavy with sleep. Peeta cradled him against his chest, rocking him gently from side to side and humming until Aran slowly drifted off. He wished he could sing him to sleep, like Katniss used to, but Peeta knew he couldn't sing a note to save his life, let alone to soothe his son. So he settled for humming softly.
Resting the sleeping boy down safely in his crib, Peeta tucked the covers around him and lightly pressed a kiss to his son's forehead. "Sweet dreams, little guy," he said as he switched off the light, and moved quietly out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.
Next door in Skye's room, his daughter was sitting up on her bed waiting for him, her favorite orange blanket in one small hand, and a book in the other.
"Hey sweetie," he said sitting down beside her on the small bed. "Have you decided what story you want me to read for you tonight?
"Yep!" she nodded eagerly and showed him the book cover with an illustration of a pretty girl dressed in a floating blue ball gown with a blue ribbon in her yellow hair. "Can I have this one? Miss Rue read it to us at daycare."
Peeta smiled at her choice. Cinderella. A classic. He settled down with his back against the headboard, stretching his legs out in front of him and lifting his arm for Skye, who immediately crawled under it and snuggled up against his side, her blanket pressed against her cheek as she made herself comfortable. Instinctively Peeta raised his hand to gently stroke her hair as he began to read from the book. Her hair was soft and dark and felt silky to his touch, just like her mother's.
He wasn't far into the story when he heard a soft "Daddy?" and he looked down at his daughter questioningly. "Can I ask you something?" She was looking up at him with slightly worried eyes.
"Sure you can," he answered immediately, putting the book to one side to concentrate on his daughter. "You know you can ask me anything, right? What's on your mind?"
"Now that mama doesn't live with us any more, will I get a stepmother someday, like Cinderella did?"
Peeta felt his heart rate accelerate in panic as he stared into his daughter's questioning blue eyes, so like his own. He opened his mouth but no words came out. Dumb, Peeta, he thought, mentally face-palming himself. He should have anticipated something like this was coming when she picked that story. His little girl was a smart cookie and she had never been particularly into Disney princesses before. She must have been thinking about the story since Rue read it to them. What does he say now?
Clearing his throat a little to ease the tightness he felt there, he decided to go with honesty. It was always the best policy, right? Making his tone as soothing as he could, he tried to choose his words carefully.
"I don't know, sweetie. I suppose that maybe someday that might happen. But not for a very long time. Does that worry you?"
"A little bit." Skye's bottom lip started to tremble a little and she clutched her blanket tighter. "Would she come to live with us?"
"Maybe..." Peeta stuttered a little.
"But, you wouldn't let anyone be mean to me or Aran, or make us sleep in the attic, would you Daddy?"
"Oh sweetie, no of course not!" he said, pulling his daughter into a hug. "I can promise you right now that will never, ever happen!"
"And we wouldn't get ugly sisters?"
"No, I don't think so..." he chuckled a little, stroking Skye's hair back from her face affectionately.
"And Mama would still be our real Mama, wouldn't she?"
Peeta swallowed hard. It broke his heart that his little girl was even thinking about this and needed to ask him these questions. He felt his underlying anger with Katniss begin to flicker again, along with the overwhelming need to protect his child, but he didn't know how best to reassure Skye about this. So he hugged her tighter, inhaling her sweet smell.
"Sweetie, you know I don't break my promises, right?"
Skye nodded against his chest.
"Then I promise you, no matter what ever happens that your mama will always be your real mama, and you will always have me, and we will always love you."
"Aran too?" She looked up trustingly into his eyes. Peeta couldn't help but feel a little burst of pride at his amazing little girl. The protective big sister, he thought. Just like her mother.
"Aran too. I promise." He dropped a kiss onto the crown of her head, hoping he had done enough to reassure her.
"Okay then." Skye's face visibly relaxed and she gave him a little smile, and Peeta knew she was satisfied, at least temporarily. "Will you finish the story now?" He chuckled a little as she snuggled back into his side and closed her eyes, nuzzling into her blanket. Within minutes she was fast asleep. Peeta stayed there for a little while longer, taking comfort from just stroking his daughter's dark hair and humming softly, like he had done with Aran. But eventually he forced himself up, before he got too cozy and fell asleep too. He tucked the covers around the sleeping child. With both children safely settled in bed, Peeta headed back downstairs.
In the kitchen, he paused to gather his thoughts for a moment. His heart told him that he really needed to discuss what had just happened with Skye with Katniss, but his head told him that neither of them was ready to have that conversation yet. Katniss hadn't exactly reacted well to finding condoms in their former bedroom. He could only imagine what would happen if the first conversation he tried to have with her after that was on the topic of introducing new people to their children. Not that he would be the one introducing them to anyone anytime soon.
Oh no! The thought struck like a thunderbolt out of the blue. What if one day Katniss wanted to introduce another man into his children's lives? Because thinking about this meant he had to accept the possibility that someday his children could have a father figure other than him in their lives. A stepfather. Gale Hawthorne?
His mind rejected the idea immediately, but he knew that someday he might have to deal with that. What were the odds of a woman like Katniss staying single for the rest of her life?
To hell with it. The kitchen clean up and the laundry could wait for a few minutes. Peeta grabbed a beer from the fridge and headed for the back step to watch the sunset. He needed to clear his head and heart of these swirling emotions that were constantly pulling him in different directions. One minute he was so angry at Katniss and the next he was sad and lonely and missing her desperately. It was exhausting.
Sunset used to be the time of the day that he loved the most, but now he got little comfort from it. Evenings used to be his time with Katniss, the time when they would try to catch up. With the kids in bed, they'd curl up close to each other on the sofa and talk about their day, or watch something on TV until one of the other of them fell asleep. Saturday night was the night he would make his homemade pizza with Skye, and Katniss would eat more than anyone, swearing it was better than anything from a pizzeria. They'd make popcorn and watch Disney movies, with all four of them piled on the sofa together.
But this Saturday night instead of enjoying his family he found himself trying to explain to his four year old that she wouldn't have a stepmom or ugly stepsisters any time soon. How did it all go so wrong?
It had been months now, but as time went by it was the simple things he was still finding really hard to deal with. Like cooking for one. The kids ate simple food, but he used to enjoy experimenting with new ideas when he cooked for himself and Katniss. It was no fun cooking just for himself. Talking at the end of the day. Her kisses. Sharing a bed with her, and it wasn't even about sex (though he missed that badly), but rather about feeling close to someone. It was hard to wake up every day without her head resting against his heart and her sleepy morning smile. No matter what, that was the one smile he'd been guaranteed to get every day, no matter how many times she would scowl after that. And he had loved her scowl as much as her smile anyway. Would he ever feel that way about someone ever again?
Damn it, why did she have to run off and ruin everything? Peeta slammed the empty bottle down on the step beside him and dropped his head into his hands with a frustrated moan. He hated what had happened to them.
But this was doing him no good. Dwelling on the past was only making him bitter. He pulled himself up of the steps and plodded back into the house. He noticed his phone sitting on the kitchen table where he'd left it. The voicemail icon was flashing. He picked it up quickly, irrationally hoping that maybe Katniss had called him to break the ice. Maybe with the excuse of asking him something about the kids? It was too much to hope that she called because she missed him and wanted to hear his voice.
He wondered how she spent Saturday nights now. She probably spent them with her sister. Or maybe with Annie. Finnick had kept his promise about keeping in touch ever since they'd spent the day at the lake, but he didn't know if Katniss still kept in touch with Annie. Finnick never mentioned it. He hoped she did. They'd been good friends.
It turned out the message was from his father reminding him to bring the kids over early the following day. With the kids' weekends now split between two homes, Michael didn't get to see his grandkids as much, so he relished every minute he did get to spend with them. Peeta sighed and decided he better get on with finally folding the laundry.
After a restless night, Peeta woke early the next morning to find Skye bouncing on his bed, her face a big grin.
"Wake up Daddy, wake up!" She bounced harder, the motion of the mattress making Peeta feel slightly nauseous. He shouldn't have had that second beer last night.
He rolled over and grinned, hiding his face in the pillow and pretending to be asleep until Skye shouted, "I want breakfast!" right in his ear, causing Peeta to wince slightly. From the other room, he could hear the sounds of Aran waking up and calling him. "Dada! Dada, Dada!" came clearly through the monitor, followed by an insistent "Ky!" Aran was picking up more words every day.
"Daddy, you have to wake up, Aran wants you!" She poked him in the ribs.
"Okay, okay, I'm up!" Peeta laughed, and reached out and grabbed Skye, tickling her until she squealed. He pushed himself into a sitting position and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He shouldn't complain. Not every morning was bad and those he got to spend at home with his kids where he wasn't rushing to get them ready for daycare were precious, and he reminded himself to make the most of them.
A couple of hours later, Peeta watched with a grin as Aran sat on his grandfather's lap, bashing a ball of dough in front of him with his tiny fists, flinging flour everywhere, covering his chubby arms and face, as well as the floor with the white stuff. He gave Peeta a wide toothy smile and chortled with glee.
"You did exactly the same when you were his age," Michael chuckled, hanging on to Aran just a little bit tighter and ducking his head slightly to avoid getting a face-full of flour. "And except for her eyes, Skye looks more like Katniss every day. She even scowls just like her."
Peeta must have tensed at the mention of Katniss' name, because he could feel his father's knowing gaze fix on him from across the room.
"How is Katniss, son? She never comes by the bakery anymore. Have you spoken to her lately?"
"Not really, no." He shook his head.
Peeta knew his short answer wouldn't fool Michael. His father could tell something was wrong. He hadn't told him anything about the fight with Katniss because he really didn't want to talk about it.
"Well, when you do talk to her, tell her I said hello." Michael added, somehow sensing that now was not the time to push.
"I will."
Peeta knew his family still cared about Katniss despite everything. She'd been a part of their family for over twelve years. Even though Evelyn had been open and scathing in her dislike, Michael and Katniss had always had a good relationship, his father often referring to Katniss as the daughter he never had. Katniss used to call into the bakery regularly for coffee and chats with her father-in-law. Without her ever saying a word, Peeta had figured out years ago that being around his dad had helped to fill the void left behind by her own father's death, so many years ago. He was sure she was missing Michael too.
He sighed. Theirs wasn't the only relationship affected by the divorce. Friends, families, it impacted on them all.
"Grandpa? Can you teach me how to make cheese buns next?" Skye asked as she clambered up on the stool beside her grandfather. She looked adorable with an oversized apron wrapped around her tiny body.
"I sure can, pumpkin, but why don't you let your daddy show you how to make them?" Michael smiled fondly down at his grandaughter.
Skye wrinkled her nose and shook her head, making her glossy curls bounce. "Daddy doesn't like to make cheese buns anymore," she whispered out loud.
"Is that right?" Michael asked, glancing over at Peeta again.
"Daddy used to make them for Mama all the time, but now he makes us his special pancakes for breakfast. I love blueberry pancakes. Or chocolate chip," the little girl said conversationally, dipping her fingers into a scraped-out bowl of frosting, and licking them.
"I like blueberry pancakes too, pumpkin. They're the best," Michael murmured to his granddaughter, bending his head to plant a kiss on her cheek without taking his eyes away from his youngest son.
Peeta knew his face must have displayed shock at his daughter's words and he tried to conceal it as quickly as he felt it, but given the way his father was watching him, he knew he had failed. It was true he hadn't baked cheese buns at home since Katniss left. What else was his little girl picking up on that he was not aware of?
Quickly he began to gather the bowls and utensils they'd used to make cupcakes and piled them into the sink, hoping that if he looked busy enough Michael would turn his attention back to his grandkids.
"Peeta—" Michael had just begun to speak when the kitchen door swung open with a loud clatter.
Both men turned, as a dishevelled Rye, barefoot and dressed only in loose shorts and a ratty t-shirt, wandered into the kitchen.
"Morning," he yawned widely as he opened the fridge door and began rummaging through the contents looking for something cold to drink.
"Good afternoon, Rye," Michael answered pointedly eyeing the clock on the wall. It was a little past noon.
Peeta smirked. "Late night last night?" he asked, but before his brother could answer, he was interrupted by Skye dashing past to attach herself to her uncle's leg. "Uncle Rye!" she squealed in delight, beaming up at him.
"Hey, it's my favourite girl!" Rye cried as he bent down and lifted the little girl up onto his hip. He tugged at the end of her messy braid. "What are you doing here today? Causing a whole lot of trouble?"
"No, Daddy brought us to visit with Grandpa. We made cupcakes and now he's going to teach me how to bake cheese buns for Mama," Skye giggled, her adoration of her uncle shining from her eyes.
"Oh, really? Well, those I gotta taste. I bet they'll be the best cheese buns in the bakery. Even better than mine. Definitely better than your daddy's. Promise me you'll save one for me when they're ready?"
Peeta rolled his eyes and chuckled. His and Rye's rivalry over which Mellark could bake the best cheese bun was legendary.
"I promise!" Skye wrapped her arms around Rye's neck, giving him a big squeeze.
"Good girl." Rye planted a kiss on her cheek and lowered her safely back down to the floor. He watched as Skye skipped happily back to her place beside Michael, whose worried look had disappeared, if the contented smile on his face was anything to go by.
Rye casually crossed over to where Peeta was standing by the sink. "I need to talk to you," he spoke quietly, only for Peeta to hear.
"What's up?" Peeta frowned slightly, immediately picking up on the seriousness in Rye's tone.
"Not here." Rye inclined his head towards the door. "Not where little ears might overhear."
He walked out, tousling Aran's curls and tweaking Skye's nose on his way into the living room.
"Does your brother want you for something?" Michael enquired quietly.
"You don't miss a thing, do you," Peeta gave a short laugh.
"Nope," Michael tilted his head towards the door Rye had just passed through. "You should go talk to him."
Peeta hesitated, wiping his hands dry. "Are you sure you can manage?" he asked.
Michael laughed. "Go on, Peeta. I can watch these two while you talk," the older man was clearly amused. "I've been wrangling kids around kitchens for a lot longer than you have, you know."
"I guess you have," he gave his father a smile of appreciation.
"I was at The Hob last night," Rye began when Peeta followed him into the living room a few minutes later.
Peeta smirked. "Yeah, I can tell. It looks like you had a rough night."
"You could say that." Rye threw himself down on the sofa and popped the top on a second bottle of water and gulping half the contents down in one go. "But not in the way you're thinking."
Peeta watched as his brother drank, wondering what was so urgent that Rye had to pull him out of the kitchen to speak to him.
"Hungover?" he asked.
Rye shook his head as he lowered the bottle. "Normally I would be, yes. But not today. I didn't get to drink anywhere near as much as I wanted to last night. I got a little side-tracked."
"Is that what they're calling it these days? Was she pretty?" Peeta grinned, trying to keep the atmosphere light. Rye's womanizing ways were well known.
"I know you definitely think so." Rye threw him a sideways look.
The TV was on in the background, tuned into a local sports channel. Rye leaned over and grabbed the remote, hiring the volume slightly, and Peeta knew straight away whatever Rye wanted to talk about, he didn't want to be overheard in the kitchen.
Peeta furrowed his eyebrows. "What's going on, Rye?" he asked curiously.
"Katniss was there too."
Peeta swallowed slowly. What was Katniss doing in The Hob? A known pick-up joint? She hated that kind of place. At least the Katniss he knew hated those kinds of places.
"She was?" he answered coolly, trying not to look as bothered as he was. "Why do I need to know this Rye? Katniss is a grown woman. She can go where she likes."
"I know that," Rye replied. "That's not what the problem was."
"There was a problem?" Fear gripped Peeta's insides the minute the sentence was out of Rye's mouth.
"She was drunk. Very drunk, and knocking back shots like it might be her last night on earth."
Okay. Peeta breathed in deeply trying not to overreact, even though he was now more scared than before. Whether it was because of whatever was going to come out of Rye's mouth next, or fear that Katniss had been drunk and could have been hurt, he couldn't distinguish.
His gaze wandered around his father's cosy living room, only to settle on a framed photo of himself and Katniss with the kids taken just a day after Aran was born. In it, Katniss was sitting propped up by pillows in her hospital bed and he was leaning over her, holding Skye in his arms as they introduced her to her new baby brother, a tiny red faced thing wrapped in a blanket in Katniss's arms. They had all looked so close. And happy. He tore his eyes away.
"Is that it, or did something else happen?" He held his breath as Rye watched him closely. "Whatever it is, just spit it out Rye."
Rye was rubbing his palms together nervously. "Don't freak out, okay? Cato Burns was all over her. He was coming on to her pretty strong, and putting his hands on her..."
Peeta felt his blood turn to fire in his veins. No. Not him. Not that fucking asshole. His fists clenched and he fought to curb the impulse to storm out right now and find Cato fucking Burns and beat the shit out of him for touching her. She was far too good for the likes of that douchebag.
"And what did she do?" he hissed through clenched teeth, even though he was quaking inside. He closed his eyes. This is what he'd been afraid would happen. That Katniss would do something impulsive.
"She started slapping the hell out of him," Rye snorted. "That's when I intervened."
Peeta exhaled in a rush. That's my girl, he thought, sagging a little as a sense of relief swept over him.
"Well, I'm glad she wasn't sitting at home catching up on laundry on a Saturday night, and was out enjoying herself," he quipped, trying hard to hide the bitter edge to his tone.
"You can stop with the 'I'm perfectly okay with this' attitude, Peeta, you're not fooling anyone. I know your blood is boiling right now. Don't pretend like you don't care another guy was crawling all over Katniss."
"Of course I care." Peeta growled, throwing his hands up and glaring at his brother. "I probably care more than I should. But it's not my place to do anything about it."
Rye huffed, leaning forward and pinning his brother with a stern look.
"Peeta, you need to go talk to her."
"Why?"
"Because she is in bad shape. Worse than I think you know. After I drove them home and carried her to bed, Prim and I talked."
"Prim was there too?"
"Yep, and some other girl, Jo. I think she works with Katniss or something. This girl… wow!" He shook his head from side to side, "…now she was something else! Got a mouth on her too. Went straight for my jugular when she thought I was you."
Peeta jumped up and began to pace up and down the room, his fists still clenched with tension.
"Rye, you don't know some of the things Katniss accused me of. Last time I saw her she basically said—"
"Yeah, what the fuck is this about you fucking some other woman? Have you been holding out on me? It's not the cute redhead from the daycare centre, is it?"
Peeta froze immediately, paralysed in shock that Rye knew anything about it. "Did Katniss tell you that?"
"Hell no, Peet, Katniss was too drunk to say much about anything really. It was this other girl, Jo. She said Katniss told her you'd argued because she found out you've been fucking other women already. Apparently Katniss has been pretty broken up about it."
Peeta groaned out loud and began pacing again. "Rye, I haven't been with anyone else. It was a misunderstanding. She found the condoms you gave me and jumped to conclusions, and we fought. I never want to be with anyone else—" With that Peeta's mouth snapped shut.
Rye stared at him intently.
"Peeta, if that's true, then it's even more reason why you need to go talk to her. Tell her that. Because I've never seen anyone cry like that before."
"She was crying?" Peeta stalled in his pacing, his heart clenching. Katniss never cried.
Rye nodded slowly.
"She'd probably kill me for telling you this, but it was pretty heart-breaking to witness. When I first went over to tell Burns to back off, she looked so genuinely relieved to see me, and then she called me by your name before she promptly passed out. Then while Prim and I were putting her to bed, she woke up and thought I was you again. This time she tried to pull me down into bed beside her and pleaded with me to stay with her."
Peeta kept his back turned to his brother as he talked so Rye wouldn't see the shock and tears beginning to fill his own eyes at this revelation. He couldn't bear thinking of Katniss in that much pain.
Rye sat quietly for a moment, letting it all sink in. "Peet, I know you think she doesn't give a shit about you, but when she realised that I wasn't you, she just turned away and curled up in a ball and cried herself to sleep. It broke my fucking heart to see her like that."
Peeta dropped down into a chair opposite his brother, raking his hands through his hair frantically. "I don't know what you want me to say here, Rye. It's not like I'm in a position to do anything about it. Katniss and I aren't even on speaking terms."
"You need to fix that."
"How? How do I do that?"
"I don't know. Not the relationship expert here. But you've got to do something, Peeta. But there's more."
"There's more?"
"According to Prim, she's been in bad shape for a long time. Since before she left. Something to do with her mother?" At that Peeta's head shot up, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "And the reason she didn't fight you on the divorce was because she was afraid if she did, you wouldn't let her see the kids."
Peeta's jaw dropped open and he felt the blood draining from his face. "Rye," he gasped. "Rye, you have to believe me, there is no way, I would never—"
Rye put up his hand. "I know that, Peeta. I know, okay? You would never have done that. And I told Prim as much. But somehow, Katniss got the idea into her head that you would."
"Why would she think that?" Peeta cried.
Rye looked at his brother appraisingly. "I don't know Peeta. Maybe because you never really talked things out when she came back? Prim was pretty clear that Katniss thought you were determined to divorce her no matter what she wanted, and she had no other choice."
Peeta shot Rye a killer glare, but Rye shrugged, unapologetic. "It is what it is, Peeta."
"I was determined." Peeta admitted. "Rye, you know how I feel about what she did, how it hurt the kids. But I would never have denied her seeing them."
"Peeta, just hear me out, okay?" Rye ran his fingers through his own hair. "Do you think that going straight for a divorce might have been a mistake?"
Peeta stared silently at the floor. He'd been avoiding asking himself the same question for so long, but now Rye had put it out there and he didn't know how to answer him. When everything had first happened, he'd been so overwhelmed by anger and jealousy that it had felt like the right thing to do. He knew first-hand the damage a neglectful, cheating mother could inflict on a child and he'd used that to justify shutting Katniss out. But now that anger had faded and a tiny but persistent inner voice was telling him that maybe he should have listened more.
Why had Prim mentioned Lily Everdeen to Rye? He puzzled. What had Lily got to do with any of this? Lily had abandoned her children too, at least emotionally if not physically. Katniss had never spoken much about her mother, paying her a token visit once a twice a year at most, until she passed away shortly after Skye was born.
But if what Rye was saying was true, it sounded like Katniss was hurting far worse than he had imagined. He thought she'd been doing well, getting on with things and putting some semblance of a life back together. He'd even been bitter about how well she appeared to be coping, taking it as a sign that she was glad to be rid of him.
"Let me ask you another way, little brother." Rye interrupted his thoughts. "If you got a chance to be with Katniss again, would you take it?"
Peeta groaned out loud, feeling like his head was about to explode. He couldn't tell what was real from not real anymore. And he was so tired of it.
"I honestly don't know, Rye. Would it even be a possibility? After all we've done to each other?"
"I don't know the answer to that, Peeta. But you need to talk to her. Figure some of this stuff out. You just admitted you don't want to be with anyone else, and from what I saw last night, she doesn't either. I don't see what is stopping you from at least talking about it."
"No, it's too late for us, Rye."
"You don't know that for sure—"
At that moment, the door to the living room swung open slowly, and Michael peered around it, with Aran in his arms.
"Everything okay in here, boys?" he asked quietly, his cautious blue eyes going back and forth between his sons as he tried to gauge the atmosphere in the room. "This little guy is looking for his dada."
"Sure, Dad, we're just talking." Rye sat back in his chair and Peeta agreed, accepting his son from his father's arms.
"Yeah Dad, everything's fine," he said a little shakily.
"Glad to hear it," Michael patted his younger son's shoulder with a look over at Rye, and headed back into the kitchen with the excuse that Skye's batch of cheese buns were nearly ready to come out of the oven.
"What do you think you're going to do now, Peeta?" Rye asked quietly.
"I don't know. I admit, some of the stuff you've told me makes me very confused, Rye. I'll have to think about it, try and figure it out."
"Good enough." Rye smiled. "I'm sorry for being an asshole and pushing you on it. But if you have made a mistake… well. Just promise me you won't leave it too long before you talk to her, yeah?"
"Yeah." Peeta conceded defeat. Though he had no idea how to bring up that conversation with a woman he wasn't even speaking to and who, until today, he was pretty convinced hated him.
"Oh, and if you see Prim in the meantime? You might want to duck and cover."
Another week passed by before Peeta decided he would have to be the one to try and break the ice with Katniss. A week in which he had spent many hours lying in the dark alone in his bed, examining every possible reason why she might have been so upset that night. Maybe Rye was exaggerating how upset she was. Maybe it was just the alcohol talking and she'd be embarrassed if he mentioned it.
As he pulled up outside her small house, he felt every nerve in his body tense up. He forced himself to switch off the engine and get out of the truck. She wasn't expecting him, and he knew he was risking her shutting the door in his face, but he was counting on the fact that she wouldn't do that in front of the kids. He knew the right thing to do would have been to call her first, but the way things were, he knew if he called she'd just let it go to voicemail.
And Rye was right about some things. They did need to talk.
"Peeta!" The expression on Katniss' face showed her immediate wariness at finding him standing on her doorstep mid-afternoon.
Scowling, she glanced down at the slim silver watch resting on her wrist. It had been a gift from him for their tenth wedding anniversary. "What are you doing here? The kids aren't supposed to go home for at least another couple of hours."
Peeta noticed the almost imperceptible way her arms tightened possessively around Aran, who was balanced on her hip with his thumb stuck firmly in his mouth. He had timed his visit hoping their son would still be napping, but if the sleepy look on the little boy's face was anything to go by he had just woken up.
"I didn't come by to take the kids home early, I think we need to talk." He purposely spoke calmly, trying to sound at least a little conciliatory as he reached out and touched Aran's cheek. He smiled gently at the sleepy toddler in what he hoped was a reassuring way.
"You do?" He could tell Katniss was trying to appear unperturbed for Aran's sake too, but he could detect the unease in her tone. This was the first time since the divorce that he'd been the one to approach her to ask to talk.
Peeta looked up, and he could see by her body language what Rye had been talking about. Her defensiveness towards him. The look in her eyes left him in no doubt that if she wasn't holding Aran in her arms the door would have already been closed.
"Can I come in?" Peeta shoved his hands in his pockets and waited.
Katniss hesitated for just a moment then nodded, stepping back and deftly shifting Aran to her other hip so she could open the door wider, allowing him to enter.
"Thank you," he said quietly, closing the door behind him.
She nodded briefly without looking at him and wordlessly turned and walked down the hallway towards the kitchen, side-stepping a few toys thrown around, and leaving Peeta to follow her. He had only been by Katniss' new home once or twice since the kids had started to spend time there, but he knew the lay out.
"Please excuse the mess, I wasn't expecting company this afternoon." Katniss's voice shook a little as she let Aran down on the floor. "We were in the middle of painting the spare room for Skye," she mumbled as she stood back up, wiping her hands down her sides in an attempt to straighten her dishevelled appearance.
Peeta hadn't even noticed the house; he'd been too busy studying Katniss and how natural and at ease she looked while she effortlessly settled Aran with some toys to keep him occupied.
He tried, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Katniss look so relaxed with their little boy, and he suddenly realised exactly how long it had been since he'd seen Katniss interact with their children in any capacity other than when it was time to pick them up or drop them off.
As he watched her, he took in the paint stains covering Katniss' hands, her flushed face, and the form fitting yoga pants and tank she was wearing. Her dark hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, a few pieces escaping from the sides to stick to her face, and he felt the urge to reach out and tuck those loose strands behind her ear, like he once would have done without a second thought. Peeta felt his stomach drop. She was gorgeous and even in her dishevelled state she could still steal his breath away.
But something was different. Her hair. For a moment Peeta stood transfixed, his eyes widening as he focused on her shoulder-length ponytail, his mouth dropping open.
"What did you do?" he blurted out the question before he could stop himself.
"Huh?" Katniss froze, looking startled.
"Your hair. Your braid," he pointed.
"Oh! Eh, I got it cut. Prim thought I needed a change." Katniss reached up and quickly loosened her hair from the band holding it back and began running her fingers nervously through the messy locks that now ended just below her collarbone.
"It's... different." Peeta couldn't tear his eyes away. All of a sudden he felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He had so many memories associated with the smooth raven locks that had flowed down Katniss' back, almost to her waist, for as long as he'd known her. One of his favorite things to do was to unbraid her hair and let his fingers card through it gently while she slept curled against his chest. Just the feel of her silky tresses slipping between his fingers was enough to instantly make him feel relaxed him after a long day.
Other times he would weave his fingers into it and grip it tightly so he could angle her mouth up towards his when they kissed, and the noises she made when he tugged on the roots had the power to make him instantly hard and desperate in his need for her.
Even the times he'd found himself holding it back for her when she was overcome by morning sickness held a special place in his heart.
But her dramatic new haircut hit Peeta hard. It was another part of their old life together that was changed and he felt himself drowning once more in a sense of loss. She was making so many changes, so fast, and he wasn't a part of any of them anymore. And it hurt because he knew he had no right to be– divorce had been his choice. He sat down heavily at the kitchen table.
"It's just hair," Katniss was saying as she shrugged nonchalantly, not noticing the sudden stricken look in his eyes. She raised her arms high above her head to re-secure her ponytail, unwittingly giving him an eyeful of the smooth olive-toned skin of her midriff as she did so. He looked away. "It'll grow back. Or maybe I'll keep it this way. I haven't made up my mind yet."
She stepped towards the kettle. "Would you like some tea?"
"Yes, please." Peeta answered, wishing for something a lot stronger.
"Hi Daddy!" Peeta felt welcome relief from the sound of Skye's cheerful voice as she skipped into the room and leapt into his lap, winding her arms around his neck and snuggling her cheek against his. God he needed that hug!
"Hi sweetie." He pushed down his feelings and forced some semblance of a smile to his face for his daughter as he kissed her cheek. He could not let her see him getting upset.
"Have you come to take us home already?" Skye began to pout before he could even start to reply. "Because Mama and I aren't finished painting! Not pictures like you make, Daddy, we're painting the walls! Orange, the same as my room at home." Her face beamed. "Mama said it could be my room when we sleep here." She jumped off his lap and grabbed his hand, tugging it. "Do you wanna come see?"
"Maybe later, sweetie." Peeta glanced up carefully at Katniss. Her back was towards him as she busied herself with preparing their tea, but there was visible tension in her shoulders and spine. "Mama will be bringing you home later on as usual, is that okay?"
Skye nodded and turned at the sound of her mother's voice.
"Skye, can you go and play with your little brother while your daddy and I talk?" Katniss asked softly as she placed two steaming cups on the table, along with a plate of cookies. Store bought, Peeta noted.
"Okay!" Skye grabbed a cookie from the plate without asking and danced towards where Aran was happily playing with some toy trucks.
"Skye Mellark, where are your manners?" Katniss called after her, but there was a soft smile on her lips. "Thank you, Mama!" the little girl threw a cheeky grin back at her, and they both chuckled a little as Skye threw herself down on the floor and quickly became engrossed in a game with Aran.
"So, what did you want to talk about?" Katniss asked, her smile fading as she finally turned her attention towards Peeta. Her body language left him in no doubt of how tense she was.
Peeta exhaled through his nose, tapping his fingers nervously against the table top.
"Katniss, can you look at me?" he asked. When her eyes connected with his, he started to talk.
"First, I think I need to say I'm sorry for how angry I got the last time we… when we... " he shook his head. "Some of the things I said to you, they were uncalled for," Peeta offered.
"I'm sorry too, Peeta." Katniss immediately responded, her eyes filling with a relieved kind of remorse that Peeta recognized to be genuine. God, he'd missed the sound of her voice saying his name without any anger attached. "I should have called you that day, before letting myself into your house. I don't know what I was thinking, barging in like that—" She breathed in deeply and let it out slowly. "I'm sorry for the other things I said too. I was… upset."
He nodded, silently acknowledging her apology. At least this was a start. "Is there anything else left behind that you need? I could bring it by…" he began hesitantly.
"Is that why you're here, Peeta?" Katniss interjected, her eyes narrowing. "To make sure I don't invade your home again? I promise you, I won't." Katniss's eyes darkened as she looked away. It always reminded him of storm clouds gathering when she got that look.
"No, no, that's not what I meant at all! I didn't mean it like that…damn it," Peeta cursed under his breath as he saw her immediately withdrawing. Instinctively he reached out and touched the back of Katniss' hand, hoping it would bring her back to him.
It worked. At his touch, her hand froze and they both felt the sharp frisson of electricity that passed between them. Her gray eyes locked instantly on his blue ones.
"Can we try this again?" Peeta drew his hand back slowly, not wanting to let go, but he couldn't bear the tingling when his fingers touched hers. "Please, Katniss, I don't want this to turn into another fight. That's not why I'm here."
Katniss eyed him cautiously, trying to gauge his sincerity. "Why are you here?"
Peeta took another deep breath, wondering as he had ever since Rye told him, if bringing up the incident at The Hob was a good idea. He glanced over at the kids, checking that Skye and Aran were out of earshot.
"A couple of reasons. First, I'm worried about you," he began, his voice sounding a little more gruff then he intended. He watched her face for her reaction. "Rye told me about what happened last weekend at that club. He said you were totally wasted and then you passed out."
Katniss eyes darted away again and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the blush in her cheeks deepening.
"I suppose it was too much to expect Rye not to say anything to you," she mumbled.
"He only told me because he was concerned, too. What happened, Katniss? You were never much of a drinker. How did you end up drinking so much that you passed out?" Peeta had decided to just concentrate on that, and not to mention that he knew about Cato, in case she thought he was motivated by jealousy.
She shrugged, feigning nonchalance Peeta knew she didn't feel. "I didn't drink that much. It's been a while since I've been to a club, and we were doing shots. I forgot my limit. It's not such a big deal."
"You could have hurt yourself." Or worse, someone could have hurt you. Peeta didn't want to sound like he was reprimanding her, but he shivered involuntarily again as terrifying thoughts of what could have happened ran through his mind. The Hob was not in a good part of town.
"Who are you now, Haymitch?" Katniss smirked a little. "I was with a friend and Prim was there too. They wouldn't have let anything happen to me," she paused, adding, "You don't need to worry about me."
"A new friend?" Peeta raised an eyebrow quizzically, letting her last comment about not worrying slide past, because he knew he would always worry about her but there was nothing to be gained by telling her that. She'd always been independent. It would just annoy her.
"Yes, Johanna, from work," Katniss lifted her tea to her lips and sipped. "You don't know her. Madge was supposed to come too, but she didn't make it."
She put down her cup, looking at him suspiciously. "I'm surprised Rye didn't tell you this."
Peeta nodded. "Rye mentioned someone called Jo. He described her as something else and says that she has a mouth on her."
"That she most definitely has," Katniss replied with a laugh, rolling her eyes.
An awkward silence began to fall between them.
"Look at us," Katniss attempted to smile a little but her eyes still revealed some anxiety. "Talking civilly and drinking tea together."
Peeta felt his own lips upturning, his heart speeding up at the sight of Katniss smiling at him, however small, her eyes showing a hint of warmth towards him for the first time in months.
"I want us to find a way to be amicable, Katniss," he said quietly, grabbing the opportunity presented by her words. "And I know I have to start doing my part in making that happen. I don't want our lives to turn into some kind of arena we're constantly battling in. I want better for our kids. "
"I want that too," Katniss agreed. She was looking at him almost hopefully now, biting her bottom lip in thought. "Actually, I'm glad you brought that up."
"You are?" Peeta prompted. He could tell by the way she was worrying her lip that she had something on her mind.
"Can I ask you something without you getting mad?"
"Sure," he agreed, dragging his eyes away from her mouth so he could focus on her words. He braced himself, for whatever she was about to say. He hoped she was going to ask if he was seeing someone. If she did it would give him a chance to tell her that he wasn't. He couldn't explain why he felt so desperate for her to know that, all he knew was that he wanted her to know.
"Can we make some rules?"
"Rules?" Peeta frowned a little. "What do you mean, rules?"
"Maybe boundaries would be a better name for them. I think we need some, Peeta." She sucked in a shaky breath. "I don't want to fight with you like we did last time, ever again." She searched his face looking for his reaction, and when he looked into her eyes, he was surprised to see his own pain reflected in them.
"I don't ever want to fight with you like that again either." Peeta looked away, a little shame-faced. "It's one of the reasons why I came over today while the kids were here. I knew we wouldn't allow ourselves to get into another fight in front of them," he admitted.
"Okay, I get why you did that, but we shouldn't need to have our kids around to act as a buffer between us. That's wrong too. It's not fair to them."
"You're right, I agree." Peeta cleared his throat. "It won't happen again. So what kind of rules do you want to discuss?"
"Well, there's two things we can start with. We must promise never fight in front of the kids… and to always call or text each other before coming over to each other's places."
"Don't we usually do that anyway? Today was just an exception."
Katniss nodded. "Another is we respect each other's privacy. What we do in our own time is our own business."
Peeta bristled, beginning to feel slightly defensive. "Katniss, I didn't go prying into your business last weekend. Rye came to me and told me about it. I was just concerned by what he told me. "
"I know that," she reached out and touched his arm, her look softening. "I appreciate that you were worried. But I'm a grown woman, Peeta. You don't have to protect me."
"I was worried," he admitted, swallowing the lump in this throat at the feel of her fingertips touching his arm. "I know I might not have always acted like I care, but I do, Katniss."
"I will always care about you too, Peeta. But our lives are going separate ways now. And as hard as that is—" her eyes drifted away from his again, "—we're still going to be around each other. There are parts of your life which are none of my business—"
"Katniss—" Peeta tried to interrupt her.
"No, please Peeta, let me say this. You know the words don't come easy."
"Sorry. Go on."
"We need to respect each other's right to have a private life." She gulped. "When I barged into your bedroom I intruded into a part of your life where I no longer have any right to be. So again, I'm sorry for that. I've been thinking about this since it happened, and I know you love our kids more than anyone else, and I can always trust you completely with them."
He sat wordlessly, wishing he could say the same. That he could place his trust as completely in her as she placed hers in him. Before, he would have believed that he did, but not since she left. So why did that leave him feeling guilty?
She smiled a little wryly, as if reading his mind. "So I have decided to trust you with this too. I have to trust that when you do meet someone new that you will only bring her into our kids' lives when you're sure the time is right, and that she—" he could see Katniss visibly struggling to make these words pass her lips, "that she'll be good to them. And to you." The last words came out as a rushed whisper.
Peeta sat frozen in place, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to think of something to say back to her. Only a few days ago he thought they weren't ready for a conversation like this, and now here it was happening. As usual, he was totally unprepared and Katniss was way ahead of him. He'd examine his feelings about that later, but right now, all he felt was confusion. Was this her way of telling him it was time for them to move on?
"Katniss," he reached across the table and grasped her hand. "You do know no one could ever replace you?"
"I know." She smiled weakly and turned her hand under his, returning his grip as if grasping at a lifeline. "We're their parents, you and me. Nothing can ever change that, and I promise you, Peeta, I'd never allow anyone to overshadow you with them. I hope you'll do the same for me." He could see tears starting to fill her eyes now and felt them starting to prick at his own.
"Of course," his reply came out hoarsely. "You're their mama."
On one hand, here she was assuaging his fears and telling him exactly what he'd needed to hear. But she'd misunderstood when he said he'd never replace her. No one could replace her in his heart.
He didn't want to replace her.
He looked down at their joined hands, and knew with one-hundred-percent certainty that he didn't want to be the one to let go.
Did this mean he really did want her back?
She smiled through brimming eyes at him. A really bright, honest smile that dazzled him. "Look at them." She sniffed a little and wiped at her eyes, directing his gaze over to the other side of the room where Skye and Aran were still playing, their heads close together, totally oblivious to what was happening between their parents.
"They're the best things we ever did." He spoke quietly and thought about what Skye had asked him. At least now he knew he and Katniss were on the same page when it came to some things. He'd try to figure out the rest later, when he had time to lie in his bed in the dark and about what it all meant.
"I'm glad you came over today, Peeta," she whispered, finally withdrawing her hand from his. He felt the loss immediately. "This was good. I know it won't always be easy between us, but if we can sit down and talk like this, I think we'll be okay. We were always better when we faced things together."
"Together," he repeated, the word tasting like ash in his mouth.
He didn't understand why this was happening now. Suddenly the weight of every conflicting emotion he was feeling was crowding in on him. He desperately needed to get some fresh air to try and clear his head.
"I— I have to go," he said, standing up and pushing away from the table.
Katniss looked up at him, surprised.
"Is everything okay, Peeta?" she asked, anxiety creeping into her eyes again.
"Yes, everything is fine, I just have some errands I need to run before the kids come home, and I've imposed on your afternoon with them enough as it is." He pulled his keys from his pocket and headed towards the door, waving goodbye to the children, telling them he'd see them later.
Katniss followed him outside to his truck, watching as he unlocked the door, nearly dropping the keys his hands were so shaky.
"Thank you again, Peeta." She said quietly.
"For what?" he asked.
"For taking the initiative and coming over to talk to me," she looked down at her feet. "I hated not being able to talk to you."
He turned back to look at her, his heart beating so hard he thought it was going to burst out of his chest. "I hated not talking to you too." He confessed.
Slowly, moving like the huntress she was, she came closer. Before he could tell what was happening she placed a hand on his chest and leaned up to press her lips against his cheek in the briefest of chaste kisses. He felt their softness and caught the achingly familiar scent of her shampoo.
Surely she must be able to feel his heart racing under her palm.
"We never do that to each other again, okay?" She whispered, searching his eyes.
Peeta just nodded, scared if he opened his mouth, he'd say too much.
She moved away, folding her arms around herself, watching as he climbed into his truck and rolled down the window.
"I'll see you soon," he offered as she lifted one hand in a small wave goodbye.
As he drove away he couldn't help but watch her getting smaller in the rear-view mirror. She stayed in the same place, watching him drive away until he turned the corner, and she disappeared completely from his view.
I am sincerely sorry that the second half of this chapter took so long to complete. Thank you all for your patience.
And thank you to my friend Naqia for helping me focus, (check out her work over on AO3, its not to be missed) my friend KnottedEnergy for inspiring me, and to the always wonderful Court81918, for her friendship, her dedication and her incredible beta skills. She deserves a medal for dealing with my appalling abuse of commas.
I've also begun writing another story, called "Waiting for Midnight" as part of the last round of F4LLS, which I will begin publishing here in December.
Thanks as always for reading.