Finding the Missing Piece: Book 3

Chapter One-Hundred

Katniss POV- (A few days later, September 1st)

"Peeta, do you want something to eat?" I ask him, wiping my hand on a dish towel.

"No, I am not hungry."

I frown, putting my hand on my hip.

"You're never hungry."

He sighs, "I'm sorry." Peeta says with a bit of an edge.

"I know that I'm not a good cook but you always did it for me. I'm not expecting you to continue doing everything you did but you could at least try to not make me feel worse. I know that I can't cook."

"It's not that, Katniss but thank you."

"Okay but remember our promise."

He sighs.

"It's for your health that you eat, even though it's a win-lose." I try joking but he either doesn't get it or he doesn't care.

I shrug and turn around, but I stop about half way there when he starts.

"We've known each other for three years since August 25th." Peeta mumbles.

"Yes. And we will have been together three years in September 7th." I say.

If only things could be as good as they were then and if we could be as happy and carefree as we were.

But it's not like that anymore, nor will it ever be.

"A lot has happened." He states and I nod my head.

"We are married." I remind him, hoping that hearing that may help him but I was wrong again.

"It seems like a lot longer than three years." Peeta says.

"Well, we have a lot longer so don't leave me now." I joke crossing my arms uncomfortably.

"I'm not trying."

I sigh, "Then please come into the kitchen with me and eat this awful meal." I beg of him.

With that, he stands up and walks straight past me, into the kitchen.

He sits down and digs in, even though I can tell he wants to throw up from the lack of nutrition and the taste.

I get my own food and sit down next to him, "I'm sorry it isn't that good." I mumble, taking a bite.

No wonder I have been having a hard time keeping it down, even Peeta wants to throw up.

"It's fine." Peeta says, swallowing his food.

I shrug.

"Bristol called..." I inform him.

He nods a little.

"Her parents are helping her find a house here. She's looking for a job." I tell him with a fake smile that's almost real.

It makes me happy to know that they will be back soon.

Maybe, having Carter around again will make Peeta feel better?

"That's good." Peeta mumbles carelessly.

I sigh.

"We would be able to watch Carter again too if we wanted, when she gets a job."

"Fun." He mutters.

I stop talking after that.

I don't want to talk to him anymore because I just want to leave.

I want to be alone to gather my thoughts for a little while.

I want to cry and I want to get away from Peeta and his damage.

I can hardly stand to look at him anymore.

It disappoints me.

Not Peeta himself, but what I've let happen.

It disappoints me how far I've let him go into this.

He's depressed.

He's no longer humorous or even merely happy with anything.

When he is, I know he's only playing along for my sake but I just don't know how much longer I can stand it.

It's breaking my heart.

"If you don't like it here, then please, at least just act like you do." I say, clenching my fork till my knuckles turn white and tears fill my eyes.

Peeta brings his head up, shooting daggers into me.

I look up too, shooting daggers right back and giving him the scowl of the century.

"Well?" I ask him harshly.

Peeta's face drops and he stares at me, neither of us moving a muscle.

"I guess you're gonna play pretend then, huh?" I say, dropping my fork on the table and walking out onto the back porch.

Seconds later, I fall into the tall grass that hasn't been mowed since mid-July and sob.

I cry for myself and I cry even more for Peeta and for our marriage.

I cry for Prim and my dad and my mom too.

I cry for Peeta's father.

The man who I never understood but who was almost always so nice to me.

The man that finally decided enough was enough for Peeta, a man that decided just a little too late.

I cry for the man that never got to tell Peeta his plan.

The man who never got to fix things with his youngest son.

I even cry for his brothers who did a lot for me when Peeta and I fought but most importantly, I cry for his mother.

That bitter woman.

The lady that hated her son for being kind.

For being himself.

It wasn't Peeta's fault he was a boy.

It wasn't his fault he had blond hair and blue eyes and it wasn't his fault he was born.

It wasn't Peeta's fault that he has a big heart and it's not his fault that he is smart and talented.

It isn't his fault.

None of this is his fault.

He doesn't deserve this.

And as usual, Peeta is the one being punished, just as he's always been.

He is the one who has been left behind to feel all the guilt and do all of the suffering.

That damn woman is probably who knows where, blaming this all on Peeta, just because.

In her mind, who else's fault could it be?

It was always Peeta's fault with her.

She thought that it was always his fault that the bread SHE put into the oven burnt and was no longer edible.

But I can only bring myself to cry kindly for her because of the one thing she did for Peeta.

She brought him into this world and I owe her at least a few sad tears.