Pregnant and a Victor

Chapter 2: The Problem

I can hear the wind blowing, shaking the trees and rattling the branches. The birds are chirping. The leaves rustling with the sound of new, spring life. I can hear the sound of our breath, and our hearts beating.

Peeta just stares at me. We stare at each other, really. What is there to say? What is there to do?

I've just told him that I am pregnant. Both of our lives are changed forever from this exact moment on. My mind is racing but also blank at the same time. I want to scream, I want to cry, I want to disappear.

But really, what I want most of all, is for him to say something. I want to know what he's feeling. I want to know what's going through his head.

I've been unfair. I've been using Peeta, this entire time. I've taken advantage of his feelings for me from the beginning. Even though he told me his confession for liking me the night before our first games was just a ploy to help us both, become favorites of the Capitol, gain sponsors, I knew he meant it.

I knew he meant it when I played along in the arena. I told him afterwards how I wanted to forget everything, live my life as if nothing happened. Then when it was convenient, I came up with the idea for us to get married because my family was in danger.

Now I've trapped him for good. There is no way to get out of this. We are going to have to be parents together. Despite everything I've put him through. I thought that by sleeping with him, I would be able to understand my own mind. I've only made things worse.

"I'm sorry," Peeta says quietly, almost lower than a whisper.

"It's not just your fault, it's mine too." It's the truth. I can't resent him for this. I can't even accept an apology. This mistake took two.

"Not for the baby," he says. The baby. It's weird to hear it like that. "Well, yeah I guess for that too. But I meant for yelling at you, blowing up, and raising my voice. That's not like me. It was uncalled for."

"It was completely called for. Peeta, I've treated you like dirt. This whole time. I'm the one who should be apologizing, I am. Apologizing that is. I'm sorry for everything. Lying to you, tricking you, manipulating you and everyone else. It was wrong. I was only ever looking out for myself."

I mean it. Every word. There are a million more things I'd like to add, but I don't know how. Whatever I say, it's never right. Peeta's always been the talker. The one that can use their words well. He resonates with people and speaks with great influence. I'm used to having to stand beside him as he does so.

"Well, I guess that's all water under the bridge now. We have to work together, be a real team. You can't do this by yourself; I don't want you to. We have to figure out a plan for uh-uhm-uh it."

My thumb starts to bleed where I was peeling off the skin around my nail. This makes me realize I stopped looking him in the eye and have been focused on my hands. I'm a coward. I am afraid.

"Peeta, I'm so scared," I say shakily, "I don't know what to do. What are we going to do?"

My eyes start to water and I feel his arms wrap around me. I place my head on his chest and begin sobbing slowly as he rubs my back. He's always been so strong and comforting. A shoulder to cry on. A friend.

I've never had many. A close relationship to hardly anyone. Gale, maybe. I can't think of him right now. The idea of having to tell him this, it breaks my heart. The thought of his face when I tell him that I am pregnant with Peeta's baby. I told him it was all an act. I told him there was nothing between Peeta and I. And I had even told him before that I would never have kids.

I focus on the beat of Peeta's heart. It's loud and strong beneath his thick chest. I am instantly reminded of our nights in the arena together in the cave, on the tour when I had nightmares, and times when we came back when I've felt alone. He's someone that I have always wanted to come to. He makes me feel safe.