Kieran’s expression softened. “Yes,” he said without hesitation.
“How?”
He let out a quiet breath. “Because students don’t know what they’re supposed to sound like yet. They’re still figuring it out. And when they do—when something clicks—it’s…” He trailed off, then smiled. “It’s real. It’s theirs.”
I watched how his posture changed, listened to his voice settle. “You like that.”
“I do.” He paused. “More than performing, most days.”
“Most days?”
Kieran smiled. “There are still moments when everything lines up. When you’re playing and it feels as though you’re not thinking anymore, you’re just… inside it.” He glanced at me. “That part never goes away.”
“No,” I said. “It doesn’t.”
He studied me for a second. “You understand that.”
“Yes.”
A look of quiet recognition passed between us.
Kieran gazed at the road ahead of us. “I think that’s why I stayed. Why I built my life around it.” He sighed. “It made sense.”
The way he used the past tense hit me hard.
“And it doesn’t now?”
Kieran didn’t answer immediately. “I don’t know,” he admitted.
It was an honest, uncertain answer, and so very far from the man who had started this conversation.
Another sigh fell from his lips. “Not that any of this will matter if I lose it.”
I came to a halt, abruptly enough that Kieran had to stop with me.
“You haven’t lost anything,” I told him.
Kieran met my gaze, and I winced to see the pain in those expressive eyes, the tightness in his face.
“I’ve been accused of something that could end my career.”
“But you didn’t do it.”
He didn’t hesitate. “No.”
“Then it doesn’t end here,” I declared in a firm voice. “I’m a staunch believer in the truth. Itwillmake itself known. You just have to trust that.”
Kieran held my gaze for a moment longer, then nodded.
We continued walking until we crossed the bridge onto Museum Island, the cathedral ahead of us on the left.
He exhaled slowly. “I spent years thinking I was straight, because that’s what I was supposed to be. It fit. Or at least…” He shrugged. “It didn’tnotfit, if that makes sense.”
I said nothing.
“I should’ve told Diana how I was feeling. But by the time I understood what it meant, it felt too late.” He swallowed. “As though I’d built something on the wrong foundation.”
I gave his hand another gentle squeeze. “Or on the only one you had at the time,” I suggested.