Her head was lowered, her eyes rapidly blinking, desperately trying to keep the tears from rolling down her cheeks. He started extending his hand, moving it closer to hers, but stopped halfway. It was not his hand to hold. Padme was not his to hold. Not anymore, anyway. She now belonged to the boy who carved out the japor snippet hanging on her neck, to the man who fathered her unborn child, to the monster he came here looking for.

Anakin. How was he always able to destroy everything he laid his hands on? What Obi-Wan had with her was something beautiful, something indescribable, something incredibly tender and unreal. Something that had lasted for almost ten years, ever since that smile she gave him at the Peace Parade in Theed. Something that transpired through anxiously anticipated letters; brief, stolen glances in the Senate hallways; and rare, acidly sweet visits to the Lake Country.

It was during those visits, he now painfully recalled, the last time they were in Varykino together, in fact, that he told her how it had to be stopped. How Anakin was almost eighteen standard years of age and how now, they would start going on missions all the time, preparing him for the trials. How she would become a Senator soon and would not have the time for their little picnics and walks.

He had later berated himself every day for his idiotic words. He hadn't meant a single one of them, and yet then, he threw them all in her tears-streaked face. Why? Because he was afraid. Petrified, actually, because he realized that he loved her. He loved Padme with his heart and soul, and although it took him almost ten years to find that out, he still didn't act on his feelings. They had never kissed, never even touched each other more deeply than those platonic hugs, and he made himself believe that she did not reciprocate his feelings. Only then, when he told her all those mean words, only then – when he saw her cry, and when the Force shrilled around him with warning, only then he realized how enormous their love was.

He didn't correct his mistake. He didn't apologize and kiss her. A year later, when the assassination attempt happened, and they met again, he didn't say anything. Did not give her one small, tiny clue to show her how sorry he was. When Anakin started expressing his "love" for her, he didn't interfere. What right had he to? When he found out about their marriage, he said nothing. What could he have done? If she was happy that way, so be it. She deserved at least some happiness, no matter where it came from.

Now, as he watched her cry again, he didn't comfort her. Now, it was too late. He was too late. He got up and walked towards his speeder. Halfway there, her voice stopped him, one question stilling him on the spot.

"Why did you do it?"