“I tried to give her K2 when we broke up,” Cassian said. “I knew I was going to come on this job and I thought it was too dangerous to take him, but she refused.”
“Had you been serious, then?” Bodhi asked. He’d resolved not to ask Cassian any personal questions, so it was interesting that he was volunteering.
“Almost a year,” Cassian said. “I don’t know how serious she was. I hadn’t meant to be that serious.”
Bodhi pulled his fingers gently through Cassian’s hair, which was soft and fine and very straight. “Did you break it off, or did she?”
“We both did,” Cassian said. “It wasn’t– she was very angry, about a lot of things, all the time, and she thought I should be angry about things, she was angry on my behalf. I didn’t– I’ve worked hard, in my life, not to be trapped by things like that, and she couldn’t understand it. And, I mean, maybe she was right. I don’t mean to be one of those assholes whose exes are always crazy. She wasn’t crazy. But I couldn’t live like she wanted me to.”
“Are you still friends?” Bodhi asked, genuinely curious. He’d never had a relationship be anything like serious, he wouldn’t know how to go about even describing one.
Cassian laughed softly, a bitter little sound. “I don’t have friends,” he said. He let that sit for a moment, and finally added, “It’s why I’m in this line of work. I can disappear on a job for six months, a year, maybe forever, and nobody will come looking inconveniently.”
“She wouldn’t care if you died,” Bodhi filled in, frowning, working his fingers down to massage Cassian’s scalp.
“People would care,” Cassian said, softly. “It’s not that nobody would care. But nobody would really be surprised.”
Bodhi considered the very real fact that if anything happened to him, there’d be no way for anyone to find his next of kin or notify anyone. He wondered what would happen if he were in a coma or something. There’d be nobody to tell them to shut off the machines.
Well, it wouldn’t be his problem, so it wasn’t really worth worrying about.