The change in her mood is subtle but Cassian's used to picking them out. The way she eats changes, becomes slightly more automatic and he braces for a sad memory, a hard question. Somehow, though, he fails to anticipate that question or the way it feels like he's been struck in the throat. It's a fair thing for her to ask and he wonders how long she's wondered what his answer might be. In his head, Cassian's had time to process and turn over those events in his head. Things that he'd initially seen as proof of Jyn's selfishness, her will to survive over anything else, had long ago been transformed by hindsight.

"It's what I believed you would do," he admits, his own voice soft, embarrassed. "But after Jedha City, I think I'd already stopped thinking that." Hadn't she rescued a little girl? Hadn't she given up her identity as currency with Saw's rebels to keep them all safe? She could just as easily left him behind. Those weren't the actions of a selfish person.

Of course, that doesn't answer for Eadu, for the things he said. He doesn't want to be the one to bring it up, would pretend it never happened if he could, but that does seem to be where this is leading.

"When we left Eadu. I was wrong. I was acting on bad orders and you caught me." And, just like a caught animal, he'd lashed out, used whatever he had on hand to hurt her as badly as she had hurt him. "I said things to you that..." Cassian shakes his head, his expression small.

"I didn't mean them. Not even then."