I knew it wouldn't take long before the stomach bug excuse would run out, there's only so long you can pretend to be ill for.
"Katniss, were going to the hob", his straight face worries me.
"But we don't need anything, you only went yesterday", I've been too weak to do the shopping so Peeta has been reluctantly leaving me and fetching whatever is needed.
"No, I'm taking you to the nurses, this sickness is killing you", his eyes dark with worry.
"I'm fine Peeta, I don't want to go, I'll be fine trust me it's just a phase, it'll pass I'll get better", I sound pathetic when I plead.
Peeta pulls me in to the waiting room, everyone is staring at me clinging to him, begging him to not make me go, I didn't want to face the words, I couldn't be pregnant.
"I can't do it, I really can't", Peeta gently rocks me side so side while I continue to cry, his hand stroking the side of my stomach.
"The sickness will go baby, remember what the doctor said, it's normal your doing great", his words knot in my ears, 'baby', it was lucky that Peeta had took enough money to bribe the doctors silence, no one would hear of the baby.
It takes a matter of weeks before my clothes start to get to tight and the small bump under my shirt becomes noticeable, another 3 before Peeta's shirts also start to pull, I needed maternity clothes but there was no way I could face the district like this, a baby produced by two victors?, it would be a matter of days before the paparazzi would camp at my door.
No I can't do that, they can't know about the child, no one can.
I really hope Peeta will love this child enough for the both of us.