Padme awoke to someone lightly stroking her hair. Startled she sat up in the bed, but the action made her head spin, and she fell back down to the pillow with a groan. Dazed she blinked up into the dark. A large shadow was looming over her. It shifted, and the hand that had been stroking her hair, came to rest at the back of her neck.
"Try not to move Padme," Anakin told her softly.
Despite her confusion, she felt herself smile at the sound of his voice, "Ani?" she called up to him.
There was no reply, but she could hear him breathing, steadily if not a little laboured. Yet, his continued silence left her feeling uneasy. A sudden urge to increase distance between them, she pressed back against his palm. Not seeming willing to let her escape, he lifted her head, holding a glass up to her lips.
"Drink this," he said at last.
Unthinking she obeyed, letting the cool water soothe her aching throat. It felt raw, like she had been screaming, but she couldn't seem to recall why. When she opened her mouth to ask, he lowered her back down, brushing a lock of hair that had plastered itself to her skin, away from her temple.
"Don't try to talk, just rest."
"What happened?" she asked hoarsely.
Anakin remained quiet. Which only helped to heighten her increasing sense of worry. It was too dark to make out his face, to seek comfort in his eyes. So, suppressing a groan, she pushed herself up onto her elbows, and touched his face instead. But what met her there, left her cold. In an instant, the fog in her brain dissipated, disappointment settling in her gut. She remembered now, she remembered everything.
It was not the first time something like this had happened.
Sometimes, in those first blissful seconds just after waking. Especially after those rare nights, when she was lucky enough to not suffer nightmares, she simply forgot. About Vader, about Mustafar, about everything. And in those moments, she would turn in her bed, seeking the familiar warmth of his body. Only to find… nothing.
Nothing, but regret.
Bitterness rose as she clutched at the mask. It was not worth it. To forget, if only for a second, for a single breath, considering the agony that always followed, as her heart shattered all over again.
Still hovering over her in the darkness, Vader remained still beneath her touch. Seeming so docile now. It almost made her want to hit him, to see what it would take to bring the monster out. What I would take, to make him hurt her again.
He drew a ragged breath, "I didn't mean to hurt you."
There was a vulnerable note to his voice, like he was seeking for her to reassure him. But she wasn't willing to offer him comfort. A real marriage should be about partnership, support and love. Giving as well as receiving. And right now, she was not in the mood to reassure him, to sooth his aches. She was tired of it, there was nothing left inside her to give. Not to him.
This time she didn't bother to swallow her bitterness. "But you did it anyway. Even after I told you to stop."
"I know," he replied quietly. Bending his head slightly, the soft fabric of his hood grazed her skin. "But I didn't think that what I was doing would actually harm you. Or I never would have done it. You have to believe that."
She didn't. Not anymore. "I have heard that one before," she replied bitterly, "And no, I don't believe you. There is no reason left why I should."
He stiffened. "It was an accident Padme. I wouldn't deliberately try to hurt you."
"So, I suppose last time was an accident as well?" she bit out, before she could stop herself.
He kept on breathing above her, her hand still resting on the half mask. The long endless pause deafening. Then he spoke it. That one word, she had so dreaded to here.
"No," he admitted on a whisper. But she heard it, oh she heard it.
Within her mind, it echoed. Silently she repeated it to herself. Over, and over again. No.
Her throat closed, but not from violence, but from grief. Bottomless, endless grief. There had been no need to ask, she had already known the answer. But to hear him say it. It ached. She swallowed hard.
He shifted beneath her palm. "I…" he hesitated, "I didn't…" his voice sounded so small, there was nothing of Vader in it now. Briefly she thought he would say something more, but he just shook his head. And when he spoke again, he sounded cool and collected.
"What happened at that place should never have happened, and it will never happen again. This I swear."
She could hear the conviction beneath his words, he really did believe in what he was saying. But it just wasn't enough. Putting as much pressure on his mask, as her sore muscles would allow, she pushed him away, her hand falling to clutch at the covers.
"Another empty promise Anakin? Don't waste your words, because that's all they are. Just words. And your words mean nothing to me now." She had tried for cool as well, but it came out sounding as bitter as she felt.
"Just lis– "
"No," she said simply, not wanting to hear any more of his excuses. Cursing herself for her own stupidity. For letting her guard down. What had she expected exactly? This was the same man that had chocked her while she was pregnant. Nothing had stopped him then. Why had she thought he would stop himself now? Of course, he wouldn't. It had only been a matter of time, before he hurt her again.
And the worst part of it all, was that she knew in her heart, it wouldn't be the last time either. One of these days he would be the death of her, intentional or not. That thought hurt more than anything, churning inside her gut like a claw, shredding her from the inside out. Deflated and empty, she started to turn away.
"Padme…"
She froze at the sound of her name. Uttered so softly, so quietly, in that gentle tone he had only ever reserved for her. It threatened to make a liar of her already. Because hearing him speak it like that, meant something, even now. Squeezing her eyes shut, she buried her head in the pillow, wanting to drown it out. Once it had made her feel special, wanted. Now it just hurt her ears.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm the remains of her raging heart. Every moment, every breath, she tried to keep in control. Hoping that somehow, with the right words she could reach whatever was left Anakin, and perhaps save them both. But it was a foolish wish, she realised now. His touch brought only pain. And she was done with pain.
"Padme, just listen to me."
He touched her again, his hand moving up and down her back, in what was probably supposed to be a soothing motion, burning a trail across her skin. Her entire body tensed. Gentleness, was just another form for torment. Cruel and deceptive, taunting her with what she had lost, with what she could never have again.
Yet, for a moment she lay there, enjoying her agony. Knowing the danger, it represented. Because this deceptive gentleness would surely destroy her, long before his hatred ever could. It offered hope in on instant, only to crush it in the next. No one could survive that for long. It was exhausting.
Finding her strength, she jerked away from him, "Take your hands of me!"
He obeyed instantly, her treacherous body regretting the loss. But there was no going back. Fluffing her pillow rougher than needed, she lay back down. "And now get out of my room. I am tired."
"No," he replied, "I am not leaving you like this."
"Why not?" she bit back, "It's not like it would be the first time."
A hand clasped firmly on her shoulder, "If not for Obi Wan, I would have come back for you!" he protested. All trace of gentleness now gone, he tugged her back around.
Laying on her back she stared up at his shadow. Because that was all this was. This was not Anakin.
"Well I wouldn't have wanted you to, not like you are now. Not after what you did. When will you get that? That I don't want anything to do with Vader, or any of it," she hissed, the venom in her words surprising even her.
"You might not want me, but you need me," he interjected coolly. "Especially now."
"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked.
When he didn't reply, she continued. "And your wrong, I don't need you. I have never needed Vader, and I have certainly never wanted him. He is your construct Anakin. Not mine. He wasn't made for me, he was made for you. By you!"
Silence.
The hand on her shoulder twitched. Angrily she went to remove it, but ended up squeezing it instead. Hard enough to cause him pain. Finding she wanted to hurt him. Vengeance, that was the word. That was what she wanted. She wanted him to suffer, ache just like she did. Her fingers dug into his palm, nails scratching his flesh.
Silent and without protest he accepted her punishment, but that was part of the problem, he wanted the pain. She wondered if he knew it, understood that what he was doing was punishing himself. The realisation made her stop. He was so very good at hurting himself, she wouldn't aid him in his self-flagellation.
Again, she sought his eyes in the dark, but they remained hidden from her, "Tell me, why do you do this?"
"Do what?"
"Cling so desperately to something you don't even want."
The mattress gave way as he leaned in closer, one arm braced on each side of her pillow. So, close now, that if not for the mask she would have felt his breath on her skin. In the dark, his reply came quickly, without hesitation.
"I do want you Padme. Always."
It was hard to resist pressing the back of her head further into the pillow, just to get away from him, "I wasn't taking about me."
More silence. A breath, then another. Yet no words. No denials, nor any admissions.
She was tired of his excuses, of his silence. And perhaps it was her near brush with death, or the thought of never seeing the twins again. Whatever it was, at his continued silence, something inside her just snapped. Years of diplomacy be damned. Years of weighing just the right words to say before she spoke, to get the wanted result, the right reaction. It flew out the window. Right now, she just didn't care.
She wanted to scream at him. Shout out her pain until she didn't hurt anymore. Until that constant painful pressure in her chest finally eased. Perhaps then she would know peace, perhaps then she could truly breathe.
How could you?
Breaking free from his confinement, she pushed herself upright, ignoring the pain, the weariness of her body. Finding his shoulders in the darkness, she shook him hard. Yet she didn't scream, because she knew if she did, she wouldn't stop. No, she would scream until her lungs burst, and all she could do was croak. Yet, even then she wouldn't stop. She would never stop.
There was simply too much pain.
"You don't even know do you?" she raged at him, her nails slipping on the smooth surface of his shoulder armour.
How she hated him. How she loved him. So much so, it physically hurt. These days she could scarcely tell apart the two emotions in her heart anymore. They had melded together as one. Love waring with hate, in an eternal battle. And her only weapon was his love for her. Yet his love for her, might very well be the thing that destroyed her in the end.
A lump formed in her throat. Hadn't once been enough?
"How could you?" She did hit him then, unable to help a sob from escaping. The armour was solid, hurting her, more than she could ever hurt it. It didn't yield, he didn't yield.
"How could you do this? To me, to us. To our child! And worst of it all, to yourself!"
Her voice broke, shattering just like her heart. She hadn't known she had the capacity to feel this much pain, she thought she had reached her peak years ago. Evidently not.
When she moved in for another hit, steely hands grabbed her wrists, trapping them in the air between them.
"Pad– "he started.
He was doing it again, saying her name like that. So deceptively soft, so gentle. Just in the same way, he would have murmured in her ear, as he moved with her all those years ago, his body pressed close to hers. Then his touch had been pleasure. Now, now it was only pain.
Pushing at his grip, too angry for fear she interrupted him. "No, just stop it. Don't say my name like that, you don't have the right. You threw that right away. You threw us away."
Her chest heaved. Her, Luke, Leia, all of them. He had thrown them all away. And for what?
He didn't try saying her name again. In fact, he said nothing more, he just sat there still in the darkness. Silent once again. But he still held on to her. From within the remains of her shattered heart fury rose, and with it, her the last vestige of control.
"You might not know why you this, but I do!" she railed at him, struggling in his grip, "It's because you are a stubborn idiot. To prideful to admit when you are wrong. So much so, you would rather condemn yourself further, and me with you. Rather than having the guts to do something about it. Because that would be difficult, that would be hard. But I suppose, it's a lot easier to become the monster, then having to face the man!"
His hands tightened around her cuffs.
"Believe me, I know hard," he replied icily, in a tone so cold it no longer sounded human. But he was human, he might be able to fool them, he might even be able to fool himself. But he could not fool her.
"Well so, do I!" she replied, feeling her heart batter violently against her ribcage. Leaning closer she somehow found his face in the darkness, her own almost pressing up against the metal of his mask.
"And so, do the millions suffering beneath your rule. Insignificant, and worthless to you perhaps. But I remember a time when you were brave enough to give a damn," she snapped.
He met her halfway, if not for the mask their noses would have touched. But she didn't back down.
"And tell me, what was my reward for giving a damn?" he said icily, "What did I gain from playing the councils fool? Respect? A place to belong? They always hated me, and you know it."
She let out a harsh laugh. Twisting from free from his grip, she found his hood. Forcefully she pulled it down, exposing him. "So instead, you decided to play his fool instead. Great work Anakin."
He drew in a sharp breath. The first frisson of fear managed to cut through her rage. But it was too late to turn back now. Besides what did it matter? She was doomed anyway. Edging sideways she felt around on the nightstand for the lamp. She would not let him hide anymore, even if it was the last thing she ever did.
"Don't."
She heard the harsh edge to his voice, the warning beneath it clear. But this time, let him be the one to know how it felt to be ignored. Undeterred she continued her search.
"Or what? You will break your promise so soon? That's a record, even for you," she said dryly.
"I told you, I meant what I said."
"You probably did, I'll concede to that. However, you meant it last time as well. Yet here we are," she replied. Her hand moved, and now she could feel the base of the lamp. When she caught it, aiming for the switch, she lunged forward, but he was on her in an instant, pinning her to the bed.
"I said don't," he said darkly into her ear. Struggling, she tried to push him off. But his grip was like a vice.
"Get off me," she spat, her blood humming at his proximity. She pushed against him again, swallowing a sob. Torn between terror and wanting to throw herself forward and bury her face in his neck. The last place in the galaxy she remembered feeling truly safe. Safe. All she wanted was to feel safe, to know the twins where safe. But there was no safety in his embrace.
As if sensing her fear, his grip lessened, although he didn't let her go. Even with her head buzzing from his closeness, she still heard the lamp clattered to the floor, shattering into pieces. But she hadn't moved, and neither had he. But then again, he didn't have to.
"You coward," she hissed up at him, before giving him another hard shove, "And let me go, I don't want you touching me. In fact, I don't want you anywhere near me," she lied to him, to herself.
Then he did release her, sitting back up. Quickly she followed. The movement caused her hip to bump into the nightstand. Reaching out a hand to steady herself, her hand caught on something. It was the water glass. Grasping at the smooth edge she lifted it. For a moment, she felt tempted to throw it at him, childish as that was. Was this, what he had reduced her to?
"Go on then," he told her.
She startled. "Can you see me?"
"No. "
She hesitated, not sure she believed him.
"However, you need something a bit more efficient, if you intend to kill me," he drawled on, "That would at best give me a headache."
Feeling suddenly foolish she slammed the glass down onto the nightstand. It rolled off, crashing to the floor, to share the fate of the lamp. Shattered into a thousand pieces, just like their marriage.
He shuffled around in the dark, before pressing a cold metal cylinder into her palm.
"Here, that should do the trick. Though make sure to aim for the neck. A quick slice should suffice. Then you would finally be free of me."
Shocked, her hand tightened reflexively around the hilt, the grooves digging into her skin. It felt heavy.
Right after Mustafar, night after night, she had held Anakin's lighsaber just like this. Until she knew ever groove, every scratch. Vison blurred by tears she had switched the beam on, then off. Then back on again. Looking for answer within the blue glow. Answers to why. But the answers never came. And one day, for her own sanity's sake, she had picked it up for the last time. And then left it in a drawer to collect dust. Much like her own heart. In the end, it had been just another empty promise.
She hadn't touched it since.
Now, her fingers grazed the grooves of Vader's lightsaber, finding the switch easily. Finger poised on the release, she hesitated, looking over at where she knew he sat in the darkness, heart pounding. She knew what she should do. For the twins. For herself, for everyone. But most of all, for Anakin's sake, she should end it. End his suffering. For he was suffering, she knew that now. Somewhere buried beneath it all, he wanted to die. And that broke her heart all over again.
Turning the saber sideways, she pressed down with unsteady fingers, feeling the button give way. In an instant, the blade hissed to life, surrounding them in an eerie red glow. Still, his face was hidden in the shadows.
"Is that easy, is it?" she asked harshly, swinging the lightsaber through the air between them, "With one flick, you decide who lives and who dies?"
"Only those who fail me." Came his quiet reply.
"More likely those who fail him, or has the nerve to get in his way. Or yours."
Moving closer to him, she lifted the weapon higher, illuminating him at last. Though the muted red glow, made him hard to truly distinguish. Still, she would have known his face anywhere, even though his mask covered the most of it, including his nose. With the hood lowered, she could see that the dark golden locks of his hair were all gone.
It hit her harder then she had thought it would. Because it was such a shallow petty thing, in the grand scheme of it all. Yet, once so long ago, she had loved running her fingers through the soft silky strands. Sometimes using them, to pull him down to her for a kiss. And he would always oblige her. Then he had come to her so gently for someone so large, so powerful, his light blue eyes sparkling in delight.
She lifted her free hand towards Vader's face, and their eyes finally met. Although whether his were blue or not, she could not tell. For a moment, her hand hung still in the air between them, like an unspoken question. When he made no signs to move away, she braved the distance, touching his face with trembling fingers. Trembling from rage, from fear, it was hard to tell. And in the end, it didn't really matter.
Easily she found his scar. Even years later she remembered exactly where it was. Knew every groove, the slight indentation it made into his flesh. Her own terror at realising how close he had come to losing his head. Carefully she traced its path, past his eye, to where it restarted just below his brow, following it to the very end.
Their gazes still locked, she traced an unsteady path from the scar she knew so well, and across his forehead. He closed his eyes, subtly leaning into her touch. For a moment, it felt like she couldn't breathe.
That's when she noticed it, the new scar. Ugly and ragged it cut into his skull. She gasped, nearly dropping the lightsaber. She didn't cry, she would not cry.
His eyes flew open, holding her captive, "Am I so hideous then?" he asked.
Yes, she almost said out loud. But not for the reasons he might think. Cruelty, she chewed on it, testing it on for size, finding it just didn't fit. Unable to help herself she touched the scar then, wincing at its harsh edges. He sat there still as she continued her exploration. Feeling the bristles of hair scratch her skin, surprised her.
"This," she lifted his head gently, thumb on his mask, fingers on his skin. "Your beautiful face. That is not why I loved you."
Dropping her hand, she pressed it against his chest, just above his heart. She couldn't feel the heartbeat through the leather. "But this was. And here is where the true horror really lies."
He looked down at her hand, "At there is my answer then," he murmured.
The old urge to comfort rose in her throat, she wanted to ease his pain. It was second nature. Yet she held it back, instead staring at the blade, until its red gleam almost blinded her.
"Would you actually let me, do it?" she whispered.
When he gazed at her again, his eyes reflected the red glow of the blade. Making them crimson orbs in the dark. Yet they revealed none of their secrets.
He moved slowly, his gloved hand enclosing hers on the hilt, "Remember what I told you Padme. To survive here, you must be ruthless. And it is rather easy when you put your mind to it," he said, pulling the blade closer to his neck. "A little closer, and all you need to do is twist."
It was not really an answer. She had wanted him to say no she realised. And not hang this decision on her shoulders. Pulling lightly on her wrist, he shifted the angle of the lightsaber, to where his armour met flesh. Horrified she resisted, pulling back on instinct, dragging the weapon safely out of his reach.
"Don't."
"Why the hesitation Padme? If you truly think I brought you here to torture you, it shouldn't be a hard choice, now should it?" he replied, clearly angry, but she got the feeling it wasn't with her, "You think I wish to kill you, that I wish to hurt you. But the opposite is true is not? If you were planning to bring down the Empire, you had to be planning on killing me. Siding with them, means condemning me, as you well know. So, go ahead, finish it. You will not get another chance at this, I assure you. "
"You condemned yourself," she replied stiffly, gripping the hilt harder within her sweaty palm. "And yes, I want the Empire to fall, I don't deny that. But you are wrong about one thing, I am no one's assassin. Certainly, not yours."
He shrugged, "But that's not what they would call you, now is it? No, they would call you a hero. Or a liberator even. Surely it would be worth it, to rid the galaxy of me."
Though his words had been cool, there was a hint of sadness hidden somewhere beneath the bravado. Her entire hand was trembling now, fatigued muscles aching from the strain of holding the lightsaber aloft.
"Let me leave this room alive, and I will kill again," he added, taunting her. Stating the words as fact, because that's what they were, and they both knew it.
But although she might not know who he was anymore, she still knew herself. "I am not an executioner."
"So even if you could save millions by killing one, even in cold blood, you wouldn't do it?"
At that she hesitated, and he leaned closer. Now what little she could see of his face didn't resemble Anakin at all anymore. There was a hard glint in his amber eyes. It nearly made her flinch. But not because of his scars.
He cocked his head, "So if not me, then what if it was the Emperor at your blade?" he asked almost casually, yet watching her intently. "Would you do it then?"
Some many images flowed through her mind as he spoke; Her, a young and frightened queen, moving for a vote of no confidence in chancellor Valorum. Which eventually led to Palpatine's election as the new chancellor. All as he had planned, no doubt. Vader screaming at her on Mustafar. Palpatine, that faithful day in the senate, declaring his Empire. Ruining everything. Ruining them. Vader carrying Luke away, both lost to the darkness, lost to her. And all of it, was Palpatine's fault.
Her hand kept shaking, and no longer could she pretend it was from fatigue.
"Or will you be like the Jedi? Conveniently hoping the enemy would do you the favour of dying on the battlefield, so you don't have to do the dirty work of an execution. Although…" he mused, leaning back into the shadows, "I do suppose they did try to assassinate Count Dooku. I'll give them that."
"What?" she blurted out in genuine surprise.
"Ah, yes you didn't know that did you..."
"I don't believe you," she protested, "Assassinations were not the Jedi way." Taking a deep breath, she stared at the saber again. It was not her way either. Realising that steadied her hand at last.
"The Jedi were not who you think they were Padme," he said, sounding almost triumphant at his revelation, "And I assure you, the council did order Count Dooku's execution. But they failed at that, as they failed at everything else. "
She could not deny the slight of hint of doubt from forming in her mind, but she refused to let him unbalance her again, "If I didn't know, is because you didn't tell me Anakin. And even if that's was true. They would have been wrong. Killing Dooku would not have ended the war."
"Killing him did end the war."
She should have known he would get defensive at that, after all he was the one that had delivered the killing blow. She shook her head at him, "No, the war only ended because Palpatine wanted it to end. He, the one who caused it in the first place. Surely you must know that by now?"
"It doesn't matter who started it, what matter is that's it's over," he snapped, clearly unhappy with the subject.
This time, she was the one that leaned closer. "It ended because Palpatine had the people just where he wanted them. Tired of war. Frightened enough to sell their freedom for safety. Only to find out too late, that they had all been duped. And now the question remains; What do you do, after you have sold yourself in fear, only to find, that there is no way out?"
When his red tinted eyes met hers again, the steel in them was gone. He stared at her, now eyes wide, making him look just a young as he was. He bent his head. But the show of vulnerability was over in an instant, and when he looked up again, his eyes were cold.
" So, mercy, it is then."
"Mercy? Hardly, I think the true punishment would be to let you live." Extinguishing the blade, she threw it at him. Plunging the room back into darkness. Hiding the sadness, he must surely see on her face.
"Here have it back. Because unlike you, Lord Vader, I don't kill my problems."
"Well perhaps you should. It might actually solve them for once. Because there is no way out of this without killing. Not for either of us. You'll see that soon enough," he said quietly, and she heard him clip the lightsaber back to his belt.
"You mistake me, on purpose. Or have you forgotten that we fought side by side during the war many times you and me?" she told him, "I both can and will defend myself when needed. But killing in battle, is not the same as a cold execution of an unarmed, or an innocent. And you know it."
She felt as his weight lifted from the mattress, as he rose, "Lie to me if you wish Padme. But we both know you would kill him given half the chance. If not for your own sake, you would for Luke's."
Would she? Wouldn't she do anything for Luke? For Leia? For him? It hadn't failed to escape her notice, that he had not included himself in that sentiment. Probably, she admitted, but then again Palpatine was never defenceless. Killing him would not be an execution, it would be self-defence. Besides it was pointless to contemplate, she didn't have the power needed for such an act. So why ask?
It hit her then, as she heard him start to walk away. "Don't think I don't know what you are trying to do," she called after him, "You are trying to make me, and everyone else do terrible things, to justify your own abhorrent moral choices. To make us all as bad as you are. Would that make it easier I wonder?"
He didn't respond to her accusation. A beam of light flooded the room as he opened the door, outlining him in the doorway. The hood back up, his back to her.
She rose to her feet, her bare feet barely avoiding the shattered glass, "Fine don't answer. But at least tell me this. Did you get the answers you were looking for?"
He turned back around, face hidden within the hood, "No just more questions."
There was something about the way he said it, that unsettled her. She narrowed her eyes, "There is something you aren't telling me isn't there?"
"Nothing you need worry about. I will protect you. I will keep you safe. At any cost."
There was no hesitation in his voice now, no trace of weakness. This what not the voice of the man that said her name like a caress. This was someone else entirely. And this man terrified her.
"That's what I am afraid of," she whispered, sinking back down on to the bed. When she looked back up again, he was already gone.
Notes:
Well someone lost their temper.
Well this chapter was hell, so many edits. In the end I just had to stop myself. I just hope I didn't edit something out I shouldn't (it happens)So here it goes.
A few things:
The mask he is wearing, those of you that have watched captain America, think something like the winter soldier style. And yes he is bald, but not completely. And he has eyebrows. But still has that ugly scar. More on that later.
And thanks for all your kind word, keeps me going.
IntelEwok: No worries I am a big softy at heart:) Thanks, I want him to be more than a raging bull. (though he is that as well) And I think every time he is near Padme he can't help tilting towards the light. But I want it to be difficult. But every little step...
padme-sky: What happened to Padme is not revealed yet, so I don't think you missed anything. If anything is confusing don't hesitate to ask:)
ladysithari4370 Thank you as always. Read your earlier review about Padme and Anakin. So very true all of it. She is definitely his catnip, but he is also hers, I think, (If not as badly) She has been to nice so far, (not in this chapter though) but she hesitates out of fear and of hope. I think part of the problem with their marriages, is that she didn't call him out on his crap enough. But she is getting there slowly. Him chocking her is a serious issue I don't want to make light of.
OliviaVader: I am not telling just yet:) But thank you.
Veilaa Thank you so much. Always nice to get a new reader.
Thank you glad you like it, here is an update:)