Lessons in Love/Chapter Ten
When she first found out Anakin had cheated on her, she'd cried. In hindsight, her tears had little effect. Anakin seemed contrite at the time, but then a few months later, had returned to the same lifestyle. Padmé had made few demands of him the first time and had accepted his sincere apology; thinking he would change instead of risk losing his family.
The second and third times were different. She was angry and ended up having to replace most of her dishes. Afterward, she presented him with demands and ultimatums, and he abided by them; for a while.
The fourth time, she'd had enough. There were no tears, no emotional outbursts. She simply packed his belongings, contacted the head of security, Captain Typho, and filed for divorce. Anakin hadn't exactly left quietly though, and made a complete fool of himself before the magistrate. However, through months of resistance and denial, Padmé finally convinced him their marriage was over.
And then, there was the Senate. This was her second term, and she had learned, when dealing with stubborn and difficult people, it did very little good to respond with anger or malice.
Despite her knowledge and experience, Padmé's first reaction was to punch Anakin in the throat. But then what? Doing so wouldn't resolve this situation. First things first.
Without saying a word to him, she stepped to the cabinets and withdrew a mug, some dehydrated caff, and a pinch of ground garmala root Dormé swore by. She placed it all in a kettle of water and set it to boil; waiting patiently without speaking, although highly aware Anakin was watching her every move.
When the concoction was ready, she poured it into the mug and handed it to him.
"Drink this."
Her lack of response had apparently caught him off guard. He looked completely baffled; even a little paranoid. He took the drink and sat cautiously at the kitchen table.
"This is terrible!" he complained, only to receive the harshest glare Padmé could create. Apparently, it worked. Anakin shrunk back in his seat and focused on emptying the mug, scowling the entire time.
Five minutes. She would give it five minutes to work. There was no point in having any type of rational discussion when he was drunk. She wouldn't waste her time. In the meantime, she would stand there silently with her arms crossed and judge him.
"Come on. Say something," he begged, which she chose to ignore.
Four minutes.
"Real mature, Padmé. You're always claiming to be the grownup in this relationship. You can at least slap me or something. I give you permission."
Three minutes.
"Come on! All right, since you aren't going to talk to me, I'll try to explain. I never stopped loving you, and isn't that all that matters? Love? For your information, I never loved any of those women I was with. I don't even love Chermira. I don't think."
Two minutes.
"We have a family, and we need to be a family! We were meant to be together, and I'll be damned if I let some stranger move into my home and be a father to my kids!"
One minute.
"I told you what I was willing to do. I'll be what you want me to be. Just tell me what that is."
Padmé stared at the wall chrono and counted down the seconds before turning her attention to him. She then sat down at the table and leaned forward on her arms, steepling her fingers.
"First of all, shut up. Don't say a word. Listen to me and don't interrupt."
He opened his mouth, had a second thought apparently, and then leaned back with his arms crossed.
"It's been ten years since our divorce, and it's taken me nearly that long to become accustomed to the fact I wasn't married; that I was a single mom. That was difficult enough, but when the kids moved out, I had an entirely new situation to get used to. I thought it would be impossible; learning to live alone, but you know what I've found out? I'm finally free. I'm free to pursue whatever I feel like doing, to get up in the middle of the night and go shopping if I want to. I don't have to worry about someone worrying about where I am, what I'm doing, or when I'm getting home. It's been very liberating. "
"But what about this Obi-Wan guy?" Anakin asked after her long discourse.
"I don't know," she honestly answered. "I enjoy his company. He's kind and friendly, supportive, and honest." Padmé put a heavy emphasis on the last word, causing her ex-husband's gaze to drop from guilt.
"If our relationship becomes serious, that's fine. If it doesn't, that's also fine. It's my choice, not yours. Anakin, we are divorced. Divorced!" she repeated. "Which means you have no say in anything I do, anywhere I go, or anyone I date. Do I make myself clear, or do I have to turn this into a legal matter?"
Her words seemed to take a while to sink in. "Where does that leave us?"
Did he just not get it? "There is no us!" Padmé took a deep breath and lowered her voice. "After our divorce, I was hoping, for Luke and Leia's sake, we could remain friends. But if you keep up with this insane behavior, that's not going to be possible."
He had to know how serious she was.
"I really messed this up, didn't I?"
Padmé shook her head in disbelief. What an understatement. "My question is, what are you going to do about it?"
He looked confused, so she hurriedly explained. "I know how you like to fix things. You always have been great at that, but I'm not talking about us. We are irreparable. I'm talking about what you did to Obi-Wan. You need to fix this. And soon."
Anakin seemed to struggle with the demand, literally squirming in his seat until finally yielding. "All right. I'm sorry, Padmé. Really I am. For a lot of things."
She nodded her head and displayed a small smile. There may be hope for him yet. Perhaps a visit to Chermira was in order.