No Games Left to Play

26: Birthday Surprise

There is nothing more romantic than the feeling of Peeta's bare skin against mine. That's why even though I never wanted children, I still had sex with Peeta. There's just something about the closeness— the heat and the desire— that the act brings. It's gross and something I would normally hate, but that thin layer of sweat created between our two bodies is... intoxicating. And what made everything more wild was that Peeta and I didn't have to worry about protection. It awoke something in not only myself, but in Peeta as well. Finally, for the first time since our wedding night, I fully understand the term 'making love.' It was no longer sex. Peeta and I were trying to create life— something that could only be done out of true love.

For almost twelve years we did everything to prevent getting me pregnant. Our first time was reckless. I told Peeta that we needed to be careful because I didn't want children, yet I let him finish inside me. On our wedding night, I was so caught up in the moment that I didn't think about the repercussions of him not pulling out would have. A little over two years into our intimate relationship, despite taking a big precaution, I somehow ended up getting pregnant with our son. Nine years later, we agreed to have a baby.

After that night, Peeta lost all control. He would look at me with that hunger in his eyes. There were times his gaze was so intense I could practically feel him undressing me with his eyes. I felt like all we did was try for a baby. If he wasn't at the bakery, we were in bed. If I wasn't out hunting, we were in bed. We were having sex constantly. By the time week two of trying rolled around, I was so sore I had to beg him to let me rest. I told him that while having sex so often could quite possibly ensure I got pregnant, we wouldn't actually be able to tell for a few weeks. However that didn't stop him from trying to get in my pants. Massages, running me a bath, cooking my favorite meal. Any tiny thing he thought I wouldn't notice, Peeta would do to put me in the mood. Though I didn't care when it happened, if it was meant to happen at all, Peeta was determined to get me pregnant. He wanted that child I promised to give him and nothing was going to get in his way.

Today, Peeta's birthday, marks one month into our endeavor. I'm starting to feel strange and different, just like I did with my last pregnancy. Again, I immediately know something is off. The changes my body is going through feel all too familiar— the fatigue, the bloating, the constant need to pee, the tender breasts, and the nausea. Oh, the nausea. I've never felt more sick in my life. I know what it all means, but I so desperately don't want to believe it.

I laid awake all night last night, starring at the ceiling frightened by the fact that I could potentially have another life growing inside of me. Before the fear was able to consume my body and turn it to stone, all I did was toss and turn anytime I tried to shut my eyes. Afraid of the nightmares that were destined to come, and that all of my moving would wake up Peeta, I convinced myself to get up and go downstairs. As I walked down the hallway to get to the stairs, I felt a gravitational pull towards a door. It's not just any door, though. Behind the hunk of wood was the room Peeta and I agreed to make the nursery for the child we hoped to conceive. Something told me to look inside, so I cracked the door open just enough to take a peek and found that the room had been completely emptied out. For some reason it put a smile on my face. After shutting the door quietly, I crept my way down the remainder of the hallway and quietly descended the steps.

I'm resting on the couch downstairs when I hear Peeta's heavy footsteps walk down the steps and into the living room, causing my eyes to flutter open and shut. I try and force myself to stay awake and keep my droopy eyelids open, but I'm so exhausted I don't have the energy or the willpower to do so. It feels like a hour passes before I feel Peeta's lips kiss my cheek. I stir and open my eyes.

"Hey," I say, my voice hoarse from not speaking since the night before.

"Good morning, gorgeous," he grins widely.