We strolled along the Unter den Linden, its two carriageways framed by trees. All around us was the steady flow of people moving in both directions, the rhythm of Berlin in daylight.
Kieran’s hand found mine again. He hadn’t let go throughout the trip on the U-Bahn. What floored me was that he hadn’t hesitated, hadn’t treated it as something temporary.
That mattered to me more than I’d expected. In fact, it mattered more than a kiss would have, at this stage. I adjusted my grip, my thumb brushing once, light yet deliberate.
Kieran showed no outward sign of reaction, but that was fine. He hadn’t let go. Then it hit me, how quiet he’d become.
I glanced at him. “Are you okay?”
He blinked, as if surfacing from whichever deep place he’d retreated into. “I’m fine. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologise,” I told him. “Just tell me where you went.”
Kieran hesitated. “I was thinking.”
I squeezed his hand. “I assumed that.”
He huffed, but there was no humour in it this time. “I was thinking about what happens next.”
I waited.
“My job. The investigation. Whether I’ll even be able to go back.”
There it was, the unseen weight that had settled on those broad shoulders.
“You care about it,” I said. It wasn’t a question.
Kieran glanced at me. “Yes.” Then he smiled. “I love it.”
“Tell me. How did you get into it?”
He looked ahead as he spoke, his voice steadier now.
“I didn’t start out wanting to teach,” he said. “Not really. I wanted to perform. That was the plan.”
“That’s usually the plan.”
He smiled. “Yes. And I did, for a while. Concerts, competitions… all of it.” A pause. “I was good.”
“I don’t doubt that.”
That got me another small smile. “But somewhere along the way,” he continued, “it stopped feeling like… enough.”
That caught my attention. “How?”
Kieran frowned, as if searching for the answer. “I don’t know. It became about getting it right. Playing what was expected. Interpreting things the ‘correct’ way.” He glanced at me. “You’d think that would be satisfying.”
“And it wasn’t.”
“No.” He shook his head. “It felt like I was… repeating something. Not discovering anything.”
A pause.
“So you started teaching.”
“Yes.”
“And that changed it?”