<
I left you to fall on the arc because you acted like you didn’t need me anyway. I don’t remember making fun of you. All I remember is trying to communicate, trying to work as a team, and you pushing me away, again and again and again.>
That day at the Temple—had he been hostile? Not at first, he knew that. With a child’s naïvete, he had approached her with friendliness and was pushed away. He thought it was a misunderstanding at first—but why hadn’t he tried to explain it then? Or why not at Ponemah, when they were assigned to work together?
Because I shouldn’t have needed to explain.
Because you shouldn’t interrupt your enemies while they’re making a mistake.
Because she was still Dag’s apprentice, even though she disobeyed and argued with and embarrassed him.
Because I liked the idea of there being a worse Jedi than me.
Because it made me feel superior.
Kai took a moment to breathe, pinching the spot between his eyes.
<
Yeah, you’re right. I came here to get off on being better than you.> No sarcasm this time. Just a begrudging admission that she was right. <
Even though I’m not better.>
He considered himself
worse than her in many ways, but if he admitted that out loud she’d probably just laugh at him. After all, what could Kai Bamarri have done that was worse than the Dark Heiress?
This visit was not going the way he’d hoped. In fact, it never was going to work out the way he’d wanted it to—with her, humbled and downtrodden, apologizing for being mean to him and asking for forgiveness. Or at the very least, promising to do better.
She wouldn’t do that because he meant nothing to her. He never had meant anything to her in the first place. And maybe that was partially his fault. Maybe it took two to form a rivalry, just like it took two to make a marriage.
<
I’m sorry.>