Page 34 of Try Line Hearts
Less like a chasm.
More like a bridge that had been tested in bad weather—and hadn’t broken.
Chapter Five: Lines Crossed
A week after the alley behind the café, Dublin felt different.
The city hadn’t changed—of course it hadn’t. The sky still hovered between grey and grayer. The river still slugged past the quays. The wind still sliced through jackets with the enthusiasm of a tax auditor.
But something in Byrne had shifted.
Training showed it first.
He and Kaine moved together with a coherence that felt less like practice and more like chemistry—lines folding open, blind passes connecting, the defense always half a second too slow.
“Again,” Carmody barked, watching them like he couldn’t decide if he was delighted or suspicious.
They ran it again.
It worked again.
The backs unit was thrilled. The forwards were confused. Byrne pretended nothing was happening, but something unmistakably was—and he was the only one who seemed determined not to name it.
Off the pitch, Kaine had changed too.
Not loudly. Not dramatically.
Just enough that Byrne felt it every time they occupied the same space.
He didn’t push or pry or corner Byrne the way he had that first week.
But he watched.
Quietly. Carefully.
He intercepted jokes. Deflected questions. Steered locker-room teasing away from the photo on Grafton Street. His tone never changed, but Byrne saw the intention in every shift.
Kaine wasn’t protecting himself.
He was protecting Byrne.
And Byrne didn’t know what to do with that.
“Media’s getting feral again,” Aoife muttered one afternoon as she flipped through her phone. “New fan edits. Don’t look unless you want madness.”
“What’d they do now?” Finn groaned.
She held up the screen: a collage of Byrne and Kaine on Grafton Street, laughing, leaning a little too close, Byrne’s hand barely grazing Kaine’s back in one shot.
Kaine’s face went a warm shade of pink. “Jesus.”
“Aw cute,” Darren said. “Hashtag adorable.”
Byrne kept his face blank as he pulled on his boots.
Kaine caught the tension and slid the moment sideways with a joke about needing royalties for fan art, and the lads took the bait.
But Byrne stayed rigid long after the laughter moved on.
