“If I could make it right,” he said into her hair.
He closed his own eyes against the sting he felt welling there. His words, spoken with the intent to convey comfort only cut him more. It was his fault Padmé would never get to know their daughter back in their own universe. He couldn’t make this right here or there.
He wasn’t good with loss. He’d killed a whole Tuskin Raider tribe after his mother’s death. After he thought he’d lost Obi-Wan at Jabiim he’d done the same to some Separatist leaders. He’d been more in control with himself when Ahsoka left the Order, but just barely. He knew now he couldn’t let himself give into the desire to hunt down whoever was in charge of this place and take his anger out on them. He knew he couldn’t not only because that would be giving into the Dark Side, but it was futile.
He had no options but to feel this unimaginable loss. He didn’t like it. It was painful and he couldn’t look beyond it to that shore in time when they wouldn’t feel this hurt anymore.
He held Padmé there for some time before it occurred to him they should go to the sofa. “You should sit down.”