Even when a goodbye ends without anger, it still leaves behind habits that refuse to disappear. K'Sante learns that the hard way. For the first week after the divorce, he catches himself making two coffees every morning before quietly pouring one down the sink. Some evenings he still reaches for a second plate before remembering there's no one waiting across the table anymore. There's no bitterness in it, only the strange ache of rebuilding a life that once fit two people and is now just for one.

Heartsteel has a way of filling empty spaces. Rehearsals that stretch late into the evening. Gruelling gym sessions with Sett until every muscle burns too much to dwell on old memories. Looking after Kayn whenever chaos inevitably follows him. Patiently stepping between Yone and the rest of the band before another disagreement spirals. And Ez, sweet Ez, he joins K'Sante whenever his friend has that far away look that betrays where his mind has gone to: Tope.

Then, without either of you intending it, you become part of the routine too.

It begins with a single walk after rehearsal, suggested on a whim when neither of you is quite ready to call it a night. Somehow, one evening becomes another, until the route through the park is as familiar as the songs he performs on stage.

“I didn't realise I'd started looking forward to this,” K'Sante admits, breaking the comfortable silence with a sheepish smile. His hands remain tucked into his jacket pockets, shoulders finally free of the tension he carries everywhere else. “I suppose you've spoiled me.”