Page 32 of Try Line Hearts
Kaine led them through back streets, away from windows and people and the possibility of eyes. The rain eased into a mist that clung to coats and eyelashes rather than falling. Dublin blurred into slick pavement and smeared shopfront lights, turning the city into something half-reflection, half-dream.
They ended up near a small square—benches, bare winter trees, a statue of some long-dead man receiving relentless pigeon disrespect.
Kaine sat on a low wall, elbows on his knees. Byrne stood for a moment, then sat beside him, leaving a careful span of space between them.
The chocolate sat heavy in Byrne’s pocket.
“You all right?” Kaine asked after a while.
“No,” Byrne said. Then, quieter: “But I will be.”
“Progress,” Kaine murmured.
Byrne exhaled, slow.
He wanted to saythank you.
He wanted to sayplease don’t leave.
He said none of those.
Instead: “You handled the reporter the other day. And the group chat. You shouldn’t have to clean up after me.”
Kaine shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe I’m just good with mess.”
“You shouldn’t have to be. Because of me.”
Kaine looked at him for a long time.
“Do you remember,” he said, “when we first paired up in training?”
“As if I could forget.”
“You were terrifying,” Kaine said. “Still are, sometimes.”
“Good.”
“But you also made it clear you’d never let anyone take a cheap shot at me.” Kaine’s voice softened. “On or off ball.”
“That’s my job,” Byrne said.
“Right.” Kaine nodded once. “And this is mine.”
Byrne frowned. “Your job is to run fast and not drop the ball.”
“And apparently,” Kaine said, “to drag the captain into bin yards when the world gets too loud and tell the lads the ‘date’ was crap so they shut up.”
Byrne’s mouth twitched despite himself.
“This doesn’t scare you?” Byrne asked before he could stop the question. “The… implications.”
Kaine leaned back, shoulders brushing cold stone. “I grew up in a world where people assumed a lot of things about me. Some true. Some not.” He glanced at Byrne. “If I spent my whole life terrified of what other people thought they saw, I’d never leave the house.”
“That must be nice,” Byrne muttered.
“It’s not easy,” Kaine said quietly. “It’s just… different.”
Rain hissed on pavement. Somewhere, a bus groaned past.
