"That's… Fifty calls on your end, and I'm not even looking to tally ours yet, and one very excited church full of people with an overabundance of plates overflowing with sausage and pancakes. Good work, Madam Senator," Dormé said, giving Padmé a pat on the shoulder with a head nod while she continued scrolling on her iPad.
Fifty was an exceptional number, given how hungover she was climbing onto the plane this morning. She wasn't the only one looking a little rough while they scrambled to do hair and make-up after Dormé showed up with her pajamas still on under her sweats. When she rolled over to snatch her phone after missing all alarms she set, luckily being woken up by one yawning and heavy-footed chief of staff, she was shocked to see Anakin's name still in the middle of her phone screen, the seconds of their call ticking away. It was just her hope that she hadn't said too much that she could no longer recall…
Drunk dialing should just not be a thing. No matter how badly a person wants to talk to the one on the other end of the phone. Luckily, it was only Anakin and after everything else, there probably wasn't anything left to be embarrassed about with him.
Padmé laughed, lacing up her tennis shoes and throwing her heels into her bag. "You're the weirdest person on my staff, you know."
"And the most useful! Ready to go hype up canvassers?"
No. The answer was 110% no. While she loved dropping in and seeing how the local party offices were doing, being received with open arms, bright eyes, and the smiling faces of young college students, occasional high schoolers, and some of the same people that she'd knocked doors with years ago… She was ready to turn off Senator Amidala, and turn on Padmé Naberrie, a woman with a date. Woman without a political agenda. Woman who was trying out this… having it all thing and already feeling like she was floundering.
A stupid thing to desire given the announcement she was preparing to release. But her personal desires had yet to stand in the way of duty, so a girl could dream, couldn't she?
"Yes. Sort of. Kind of…" She hesitated, pressing her lips together before smiling again when Dormé glanced up from the tablet to her. "Of course!"
"Hey," Dormé said, snapping her fingers. "You're mine for like five more hours. Then you can be on your merry way."
"If you think I'm finding my merry way at Sola's tonight, then you haven't been paying attention for the last 30 years of your life."
"That was just so you can keep your spirits up while you're with me. Or I could send you home early and you can battle it out there."
Padmé groaned, brushing off her jeans and tucking in the front of her t-shirt. "You're evil. You just hate me, don't you?"
"Of course. It's why I want you to be the fucking leader of the free world," Dormé replied. "Ready to roll?"
"Is… that what you're wearing?"
She looked her friend up and down, dressed in a high-waisted shorts and a tank top with her own bright purple Converse.
"Well, I'm going to wear a blazer! It's hot as hell outside, though!"
A blazer. As if that would not make it worse before it made it better.
"For the love of—" Padmé looked around the office they were currently occupying within the church. "—pancakes. Please don't wear the blazer."
"Pancakes? That's what your brain comes up with?"
"Shut up and let's go," she said with a laugh. "And stop cussing while we're in here. Heathen."
Dormé threw her arms up, gathering the last of their bags and throwing her purse over her shoulder. "I don't know how I didn't burst into flames just walking through the front door. But… guess there's a reason no one's ever nicknamed me angel," she said, bumping Padmé's hip with her own as they left.
Padmé was as red as the soft carpet leading down the stairs, wishing she could hide her face or sink into the floor when the pastor of the church stopped them at the door to thank her one more time for her help with the breakfast. She wasn't sure she'd ever hugged someone or rushed through a conversation quicker. Dormé's face was turning red as well before she erupted in laughter once they were safely in the black SUV parked and waiting for them.
"I hate you!" Padmé exclaimed, throwing a pen at the back of Dormé's head while she tried to buckle her seatbelt. "That was so embarrassing. The Reverend almost heard you!"
"It's only embarrassing because you know the circumstances of your own nickname… Which is a little sacrilegious when you think about it."
Dormé knew way too much about her. That much was clear. Certainly, the word 'boundary' no longer had any sort of meaning in their relationship. Something forgotten in… middle school, probably. But still!
"We're done having this conversation. No more about any nickname of mine, or any setting or circumstance where it's being used…"
Dormé smirked, waggling her eyebrows slightly before relenting and kicking her feet up on the center console in front of them. "Fair enough. You have your notes for your rousing speech you're gonna deliver to these fresh faces? Before half of them have their spirits crushed when the doors start slamming in their faces?"
"Yes. And the first note of my speech is not to ever ask you for advice or motivational encouragement!"
"Someone has to crush them early, weed out the weak. This field is for the strong-willed, determined, and… relentlessly annoying. Like you."
Padmé shoved her friend, being shoved back like schoolchildren rather than political veterans. This was going to be a long ass campaign trail of her own if this is what her time on the bus would be like. And it would.
"I learned from you. It was your political bootcamp you put me through, having me sit there while you read one horrible article about me after another until I was literally ready to run my head through a wall. I wasn't aware there were so many ways to call someone stupid."
"And yet, here you are. More and more social media posts going up every day, pundit after pundit commenting on the success of our office, and you rarely, thought you have your moments, let your enemies get under your skin. Perfect. Poised. Professional. And—" She pointed a finger at her own chest. "—as much as I'd like to take credit for it… I'm afraid that's just your doing."
Padmé tucked her chin into her chest, trying to not let her excitement get the best of her. Shouldn't she be allowed to indulge herself? Her chief of staff? The one person behind her that was both dream-crushing and consistently encouraging at the same time? Padmé stomped her feet against the floor of the car and let out a barely audible squeal of excitement when the car pulled into the parking lot of the local campaign headquarters.
"Go inspire these people. Basically, go do what you do best, Senator Amidala," Dormé said, sliding across the seat behind her to push her out of the car.
Padmé turned around, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. "Wait a minute! Where the hell are you going?"
"I'll be back! I have something to take care of! Assign me to go out with whatever team you think is too confident for their own good, or too unsure of themselves for your sake!"
"Fine…" she agreed, extremely reluctantly. "You better be back. And soon, Dormé!"
Dormé waved at her through the rolled-down window as the car backed up and took off again, her friend blowing a kiss in true-to-her dramatic fashion. She shook her head, inconvenient as the sudden abandonment may be… This was more Padmé's domain than Dormé. And Padmé assumed whatever she was off to do was something she was better off not knowing. Now to figure out how to prepare the group of canvassers about to go through their own version of the Amidala campaigning bootcamp… If she wasn't a political operative, Dormé truly would have made one hell of an opponent in a courtroom.
Phone banking was fun. Getting hung up on. Cursed at. Leaving voicemails. All hoping to have one conversation that would brighten the day with someone who genuinely cared about the welfare of their state or nation. Yeah, she remembered those days about as fondly as someone remembers having chicken pox…
Dormé laughed at her own discouragement while she leaned back in a chair and sighed for the millionth time. She should've known her 50 call threshold earlier in the day wasn't enough. That was for fundraising, or calls to people that already cared. Like past volunteers and community leaders. This… was a list of cold calls and no one held back on "Padmé" like they might have for "Senator Amidala," even if it wasn't true respect. Though, she supposed, it was a great exercise in staying grounded and remembering just how insanely rude people were to strangers.
Canvassing, in comparison, was her favorite part of any weekend. Saché said she practically radiated and beamed at every smiling face she received, and noted she was one of the few people that would actually give out that many high-fives or fist-bumps. Padmé tried to keep hugs to a minimum these days, but every so often she couldn't hold herself back when someone told her a story of the personal impact one of her policies, proposals, or speeches had on their lives. Whatever the interaction was, it was rarely a slammed door.
That adrenaline rush was like a natural high. A reminder of what the hell she was doing in the first place. The willingness to connect with people face-to-face kept her in the fight, long past her initial commitment, until Dormé tracked her down when she bounced over to the third canvassing group to walk with.
"Senator Ami—" Dormé cleared her throat. "Padmé, get your ass in the car. You're running late!"
On her way down the stairs from the previous home, she took one glance at her watch before frantically handing off the remaining magnets and papers to the small group of students from Northeastern that wanted to hear as much about her time at Harvard Law (again, making her feel ancient) as they did about what it was like working in the state House or Senate. Padmé gave a quick last-minute speech, bid them good luck, and rushed off to jump into the waiting car.
"Shit, shit, shit…" she said, scrambling to shed her t-shirt and dig through her overnight bag for a clean blouse for her sisters. Something to make it seem like she remembered and was definitely on time with her schedule. Ducking behind Dormé's back, she quickly changed and gladly accepted the compact mirror from her friend. "Bare face for my sister's fine, right?"
"Sure. It's your nieces you have to watch out for," Dormé teased, rolling her eyes and tossing a pack of cleansing cloths to her. "Why did you sign up to walk another route?"
"I… Lost track of time? Enjoyed being out there? Didn't think about getting murdered by my loving and adoring sister?"
"I got back to the office and saw nothing but terrified faces when I said, 'Hey, where's Padmé?'" Dormé said with a snort. "Like I was going to torch the ground they stood on because everyone lost a senator."
"Like that didn't cross your mind." Padmé huffed out a small laugh. "Well, did you hurt anyone? Constituent? Volunteer? Mob boss?"
"Nope. But I did almost name drop about ten times at least. Like in a very dramatic you don't know who I am kind of way."
"Of course you did."
"Of course I did! But, on a more serious note… It was great. I may have done some recruitment—" Padmé was sure her eyes were about to leave her skull before Dormé quickly shook her head and laughed. "—for Senator Binks' office."
"Holy…" Padmé pinched the bridge of her nose. "You can't say things like that! I thought you let something slip!"
"Of all the people around you, I am the last one that would do something foolish like that," Dormé said as the car came to a slow stop, waiting at the gate to her sister's—err—her neighborhood for her to punch in the security code.
"Well, yeah, but that's what I was afraid of. If I can't count on you to keep the news to yourself, I'll never be able to rely on anyone."
"You aren't telling Sola, then? What about your… lover boy?"
'Lover boy' was the absolutely charming and adoring nickname Dormé had officially chosen for Anakin, one that was sure to be the worst he'd ever received. Padmé practically flushed every time her best friend muttered the words. She couldn't even imagine the look of surprise on his own face. Hopefully she could stop her before the opportunity arose, or at least give Anakin a heads up it was going to happen. Especially as the day and time of their reconnecting seemed to get closer and closer.
"Would you please, for all that is good in the world, stop calling him that? I'm just waiting for you to say it in front of him when I'll have to die right on the spot. Then all our presidential aspirations will just be going up in smoke. Poof. Now you see them, now you don't."
Dormé arched her eyebrow as the truck came to a stop in front of her sister's driveway. "You've been around him too much. His melodramatics are rubbing off on my cold and calculated—"
"Ice queen?"
"Ice queen."
They both laughed at their synchronised comment, knowing neither of them really believed it to be true.
"Ice queen. Get out of this car," she said with a shake of her head. "And you didn't answer my question."
"That's because I haven't decided what I'm doing with Sola yet. I don't really like lying to them…" She stared out the window at the large brick home in front of her. Once again being reminded of what could've, would've, and possibly should've been her life, depending on her feelings that day. She turned back toward her chief of staff and shrugged. "As far as Anakin is concerned, he already figured it out. The night I had the total meltdown when Bail announced? Yeah. Don't feel like that needs more attention called to it."
"Right." Dormé rubbed her chin before she started digging in her purse again. "Probably also doesn't make for great first date conversation either. Or date conversation in general. Y'know, starting off with hey, what are you up to these days? Oh, nothing much, just deciding if I want the entirety of Americans' biggest issues and concerns weighing on my shoulders every waking moment… By the way, want to join by dating me?"
What a—once again—lovely and encouraging speech. Yep. A formidable opponent in a courtroom, probably a damn good judge, wonderful asset to her office and absolute miracle worker of a chief of staff. And the worst motivational speaker to walk the Earth.
"Yeah… Well, you said it. Unfortunately."
"Exactly! See, you get it. And I almost forgot." Dormé sat up, handing over a Amex Black Card with her name on it. "Here."
Padmé regarded her friend, her eyes glancing between the card and her face, with a puzzled expression on her own. "What exactly is that for?"
"For you to get yourself something… way more scandalous than you own for tomorrow! The date!"
Padmé's jaw almost hit the floor as Dormé motioned across her chest and then her hips, before less than gracefully exposing her bra strap from under her shirt.
"Dormé!"
"Oh please! Don't tell me you have some secret drawer just waiting for you after the years that we both know it's been. Just… Think about it. And you can order it under my name. No one needs to track down where the senator does her intimate shopping."
"That's because the senator doesn't do intimate shopping…" she mumbled under her breath, quickly tucking the card into the front pocket of her jeans. "And on that note, seems like the perfect time to tell you I am leaving for my family dinner."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'll call you tomorrow. Just tell me what you decide on. If I have somewhere to be before your big night… I'd like to prepare myself early."
Prepare herself for nothing, as far as she was concerned. There was no way in hell she was buying fancy lingerie, or lingerie at all, for her first dinner with Anakin. She had her own favorite underwear packed away in her bag for the occasion, and it wasn't like Anakin was even going to see them. That she was certain of.
"Bye Dormé, I'll call you tomorrow so you can… Talk me down from the edge because I'm sure I'll need it."
Sola, and her nieces, greeted her with nothing but smiles, hugs, and actual cheers of joy before Ryoo and Pooja were toting her off to their rooms so she could see what had become of her former lonely residence. Much like being in her family home, Sola had taken such care to make the space warm. The brand-new cherry hardwood flooring her brother-in-law had put throughout the main level, the multi-colored rooms they'd painted for her nieces, down to the seasonal throw pillows, family photos hanging along the walls, and a few pieces of antique furniture and glass pieces passed down from their grandma. Her sister was the homemaker she'd never quite be, and she adored it for their family. And for herself. Next to being at their home, her sister's was a close second for her favorite place to be.
Ryoo's room was dedicated to her love for soccer, with her participatory ribbons and small trophies set on shelves along the walls, while Pooja's extensive collection of Barbies took up most of her floor. She switched between the girls' rooms as she heard about the latest elementary school drama, the 'who's who' of 1st and 3rd grade, and which boy on her soccer team Ryoo definitely didn't have a crush on, as told by Pooja. Sola poked her head in the room twice, mostly to snicker at Padmé's predicament, she assumed, when she'd been insisted to stay to play with Pooja in Barbie's dream house, before finally rescuing her with calls for dinner.
Stuffed full of her sister's famous pot roast, Padmé made herself a spot on the plush chaise lounge end of the sofa, setting her glass of riesling on the table next to her. Waiting. Nervously and impatiently for the influx of questions Sola would come with based on the conversation at dinner in her attempts to pry information from her about her trip home, and her unavailability for the following night to join a silent auction for Darred's firm.
"So, little sister…" Sola called, rushing over with her fresh glass of a dark red wine. She was downright giddy, like they were two gossiping children discussing what was happening in the cabin next to theirs during summer camp.
Padmé rolled her eyes, swirling the wine in her glass again. "Yes?"
Sola glanced up the stairs and then waved a hand before she made her own spot on the sofa, sitting up on her knees. "Anything you want to tell me?"
"Hmm… Well, canvassing was a hit this afternoon. Fundraising numbers are good. You should have seen the gala President Valorum threw…" Padmé waited, tapping her nails against the stem of her wineglass. How many ways could she torture her sister before she exploded? "Also, your daughter has a Barbie dressed in something that can only be described as a Jackie O. reject dress without the hat, and she calls her May. Not at all with the same inflection she says Auntie Padmé, either."
Sola almost choked on her wine, laughing at the end of her statement. "I know. And I think it's hilarious that now, you know. But she loves that doll almost as much as you. And don't blame me for the Jackie O outfit, mom bought her an entire closet of clothes for them for her birthday. But absolutely none of that is what I'm talking about. Let's talk about your flushing, blushing face when Darred asked if you planned on going to mom and dad's while you were home. Shall we?"
We shall not, she wanted to say.
"I have a feeling not talking about it isn't an actual option you're giving me, so… Yes, Sola?"
"You and Anakin…?" She asked, leaning forward with raised eyebrows. "What's going on there these days?"
Padmé fell back onto the sofa with a soft thud, reaching to take another sip of her wine. "I had a free day, he had a free day, and we decided to have a free day together. Simple."
"Simple things are rarely so simple. Would you rather go back a few weeks? To the pool party, maybe? You two seemed very comfortable then."
"I would rather die."
"Isn't having a love confession on your death bed a little cliche for you?"
"This is not a love confession!"
Sola smirked into her glass, shrugging a shoulder with another sip before she pulled a large fluffy blanket down onto herself. "You could be having a love confession if you would admit it."
"You're really starting to sound like mom. I'm suddenly worried about turning forty in this family." Sola threw a pillow at her face. Padmé caught it and shoved it down into her lap to fold her hands on. She picked at a corner of the woven fabric, staring down at it. "Seriously, though… I don't know. And I sort of wish I could tell you. If you asked mom—"
"Oh, let me stop you." Sola shook her head, grabbing for her phone behind her before she showed Padmé a long chain of messages, assumed to be between their mom and her. She continued scrolling for a good thirty seconds before she looked at Padmé again. "I asked her."
"For fuck's sake!"
"Listen! That's how we ended up here. Mom said you 'weren't interested in telling the truth yet'—"
Padmé rolled her eyes hard enough for them to get stuck before swallowing down a large gulp of her wine.
"—But you 'were interested in spending the night with him.'"
Again, she thought, for fuck's sake! Whose side was she on?
"Did she at least tell you I did not do anything with him? Because I swear! I fell asleep, that's all. I was… upset, and… exhausted from the heat, and…"
"Running to Anakin for love and support. Of course. Totally get it."
"Exactly!" she agreed before considering what she'd actually said. "Wait, wait! No! That is not—"
"Lose the act, Padmé!"
"It's not an act! And it's not that I'm not interested in telling the truth, either."
And evidently she really needed to be having a conversation with their mom, too. If only there was enough time to have a secret date with your ex and also to explain away said secret date to all of one's family before a weekend was over.
Her sister made a sound of contempt before taking another sip and swirling what was left of the berry-colored liquid in her glass.
Padmé covered her face with her hands and sighed, dragging them down her cheeks slowly. "It's not… I'm not trying to lie or anything. It's just… The truth might be changing?"
She wasn't sure if even she believed the words coming out of her mouth. The truth had changed. Her feelings had changed and two weeks was definitely not enough time to process how much they had. As excited as she was to see him, to talk to him, to hug (or kiss) him, this all seemed to be happening far faster than she planned when they said they would be friends. An agreement that haunted her now.
"Oh? Do tell, little sister." Sola moved closer, stifling a laugh, but only barely. The enjoyment was obvious in her eyes. "What's changed?"
"I… God, I don't know. Nothing?" Everything. "The day in the pool was…"
"Don't even get me started on the pool day. I would've guessed you two had never called it splits if I didn't already know. The both of you practically… Hell, I'm married and I'm lost on how to explain whatever it is you two have."
Wasn't that a comforting thought? Not even the person in one of the safest and most secure relationships she'd ever seen could put her finger on whatever existed with her and Anakin.
"Yeah? Join the club." Padmé crossed her legs underneath of herself and scooted back into the couch. "My whole vacation was practically me getting carried away in some pipe dream of domesticity. Would've assumed it was my every day if I didn't know better, too. And that's… That's what the damn problem is?"
"The problem is…?"
She bit her lip softly. Emboldened by finishing her wine, she tilted her chin up when she spoke. "The problem is, this isn't me. I can't give him whatever the hell he needs if it exists in this community, and it sure seems to, and like hell, I'd have him uproot his life over me. Not again, Sola. Not. Again."
Sola practically leaped into her lap across the couch cushions before grabbing Padmé by the shoulders. "What are you talking about? This has been the most you I've seen you be in a long time! You just never stick around with yourself long enough to know it. But we do, and we miss her. And seriously…" She sighed, tilting Padmé's face up further to look her in the eyes. "You're worried about him uprooting his life for you and you won't even admit you have feelings?"
Padmé's shoulders drooped. Sola was probably right. She sounded an awful lot like her mom anyway. And Dormé. And Sabé. A little like Anakin, too. She had a good feeling that at least one of them was correct.
"But—"
"Can you just humor me for a moment? Just one second. None of your aspirations takes away from who you are as a person, and none of them changes the opinion of a man who so clearly has feelings for you. So, how do you feel about Anakin? Not what do you think or what do you predict. Just feel."
How did she feel… Beside herself trying to figure this out? Sort of like she might really have a love confession building inside her? He was still… very charming, even more when he wasn't stammering around, though that had its own edge of adorable innocence. He was absolutely gorgeous to look at, and she didn't say that lightly. All tall, and lean muscles, and… blue eyes and bright smiles and curls… The thought of him sending some extremely uncalled for feeling of desire through the rest of her. Especially in the moments he looked at her like she was the only person on the face of the planet.
He was exactly how she remembered him. Hard-working, family oriented, always tinkering with things, and mostly keeping to himself. Plus, watching him with her nieces really did something to her, almost as much as his relationship with her dad.
But there was so much she didn't know. What were the ramifications of war, of being America's hero, of his own public persona? How did he cope? Did he cope? He had a horrible temper when he was younger and had that changed? She didn't know. They'd bickered some, but nothing major. Nothing to trigger a large reaction. What about his latent insecurity? His past jealousy and incredible tendency to be… overbearing?
She didn't know how any of her worst qualities had aged, just like she didn't truly have any idea how Shmi's death had impacted him beyond what her parents could visibly see. She had no clue what he was doing for work, what his separation from the military was like, what his dreams were, his aspirations, what he wanted to do next…
And at the same time, she desperately, desperately wanted to. She wanted to know everything, to have every answer, and as far as she'd come… It was way too late to turn back now. There was no genuine point in getting her hopes up, though, or living in her fantasyland. When she took this through to its logical conclusion…
Sola obnoxiously cleared her throat. "You're thinking again, not feeling."
"I think… I still might love him." The last of her words was nearly a whisper. "A little."
Her sister took a deep breath, encouraging her to do the same before speaking. "Padmé…"
"I know, I know."
"No! I actually don't think you do. You cannot keep pretending you don't feel that way. Are you crazy?"
Quite possibly.
"I don't know. Do crazy people call their exes drunk after a party because they felt so lonely they thought they'd cry? Or take personal calls in their office and work through lunch to make up for it? Or… Spoon their pillow to make the space feel a little less lonely while the other person snores away on the phone? Because maybe I am! Okay? Maybe I freaking love him and I'm terrified because of it."
Sola nodded her head and patted Padmé on the leg before she stood, taking the empty wine glasses with her to the sink. The clanking of glass on stainless steel and splashes of water echoing in the otherwise silent space. Just what she needed at a time like this. Ruthless silence.
She finally broke down and groaned. "Would you say something, please?!"
"I know."
"You know what?"
"I know you're scared. I know. While you think about the man, I can almost see your walls growing taller." Sola let the room fall silent again before she turned back to face Padmé. "And I also know feelings like that don't just get easier to forget about. So, you need to tell him how you feel and accept that he's probably just as scared."
Padmé ran her fingers through her hair, twirling a few curls around her finger while she absorbed the weight, and reality, of Sola's words. If Sola could see them, she was pretty sure she could feel the brick walls surrounding her sanity, and thus her heart, looming above her by now. And Anakin… How did she find herself planning out a serious discussion over her… insane love for him that shouldn't exist and she couldn't let escape over their first meal together? That was actually crazy. Wasn't it?
"Can I ask you something?"
Sola considered her. "Only if you swear you'll never look me in my face and say you don't know how you feel about him ever again."
"Fine," she muttered.
"Okay. What is it, then?" Sola leaned back against the counter, folding her arms across her chest. "Better not be asking how you can weasel your way out of a conversation with him."
"It's not. I actually… Have a date with him. I mean, I was in town for all the political functions and the pancake breakfast, but… I extended the trip for him."
"Sounds more serious than you're playing it out to be."
"Don't remind me. Anyway. What…" She took an extra breath to think over her words again. "What made Darred different? For you? When did you… know?"
Sola smiled at her, lovingly and slightly amused. "Everything. He made—he makes—absolutely everything different. Every moment, breath, kiss, hug, smile, all of it. The second that the lyrics to songs felt like they might have had a different meaning. That's when I knew. That was it, and it was him. I'm fine on my own, I know that. I can do what I have to when he's not here. He can be away and it's only me and the girls, and we do just fine. I'm my own person, beyond being his wife, and he loves me for that. But when he's here…" She gave a brief shrug, "He's the only one I want to do life with. That's what makes him different."
Padmé rested her chin on the back of the couch and smiled at the look of adoration on her sister's face when she spoke of her husband. Was that how she looked speaking of Anakin? Thinking of Anakin?
"Thank you…" she responded quietly as Sola moved to turn the lights out.
"Any time. And you can come to me any time. I'm serious. Whether you're coming to me as senator, sister, resident of DC, Boston, The White House… Doesn't matter. I'm here." She walked over and grabbed Padmé's hand, the both of them sharing a smile. "Except right now because I'm going to bed."
"Fair enough. Get your info from me and run off." Padmé laughed, sitting up again and grabbing her for a hug. "If I don't see you before you leave, tell Ryoo Auntie wishes her the best of luck with her game tomorrow."
She squeezed her back, rubbing a hand over her shoulder. "Of course."
With that, Sola walked off, making her way up the stairs and leaving Padmé with all of her thoughts and only one real direction. Tell Anakin. Tell him something, at least.
But not tonight.
Tonight, she would simply bid him goodnight like every night since she'd left, and tell him she couldn't wait for tomorrow. The most honest thing she could.