Padme dreamt.
She dreamt how her to be husband, Anakin Skywalker, would sacrifice and destroy everything, all in her name.
How millions of lives would be extinguished, justified in her survival.
How she would die, nonetheless.
Only yesterday had she comforted him that anger was natural, had justified his murder of the tuskens raiders.
That was one mistake she had to correct.
Her eyes swivelled to the vibro blade in her hand, the sharpest on Naboo, beautiful and deadly.
She would correct everything.
Sixteen year old Anakin Skywalker returned from the temple the next day, had given his resignation to the order.
He reached Padme's house on Naboo, only to find her waiting for him.
Without wasting time, they embraced, as Anakin basked in her presence. She was his rock and his angel. She was his reason to live. He wrapped his hand around his waist and she drew his mouth to hers, waiting.
"I'm sorry", was all she got out before she attacked his lips with her own. Her left hand wrapped around his waist and her right hand rested against his chest, right above his heart.
Suddenly a sharp pain pulsated through his chest. He gasped for air. He finally broke the kiss and looked down to see a knife sticking out of his chest.
"Padme", he gasped. He looked into her tear filled eyes. Then, determination. She gripped the knife and pushed it deeper and into his heart.
His chest felt like it was on fire. His lungs contracted without getting air inside. His breathing slowed, and his heart finally stopped.
That day Anakin Skywalker died, for his love.