Earth’s workload increases by the day, the demands of his job as an architect becoming relentless.
He’s constantly bombarded with urgent deadlines, complicated projects, and client requests that seem to multiply overnight. It’s not just about drawing up blueprints anymore—he's juggling client meetings, site visits, and endless revisions to designs that seem to never quite meet the client's vision.
As the days go on, staying late at the office becomes more frequent. What used to be occasional overtime turns into a regular occurrence, with Earth often being the last one to leave, long after his colleagues have gone home.
Each night, as the office grows quieter and the sky outside darkens, Earth finds himself torn between finishing one more design and rushing out the door to pick up Edin on time. But, inevitably, work always wins, pulling him deeper into his responsibilities.
Worst of all, he knows that it’s encroaching on his time with Edin.
The moments he cherishes most—playing with his son after school, reading bedtime stories, or just listening to Edin talk excitedly about his day—are becoming increasingly rare.
At first, Earth manages to keep things under control.
His days are a whirlwind of activity, but he stays focused, ensuring that no matter how busy work gets, he’s always there to pick Edin up on time.
Earth dashes out of the office in the late afternoon, juggling phone calls and client emails on the go, but he always manages to make it to the preschool just before the doors close. Sometimes, he arrives with only a few minutes to spare, greeted by Mix’s reassuring smile and Edin’s eager hug.
Earth tells himself that he’s managing well, even if it feels like he’s constantly racing against the clock.
Edin, on the other hand, never seems to notice the rush; he’s just happy to see his dad, talking a mile a minute about his day as they walk to the car. Earth listens, exhaustion tugging at him, but he’s grateful for these moments, knowing how important it is to be present for Edin.
But then, slowly, the delays start creeping in.
One evening, a client asks for an impromptu meeting that stretches far longer than expected.
Earth checks the time anxiously, nodding along to the conversation, but his thoughts are already at the preschool, imagining Edin waiting.
When the meeting finally ends, Earth bolts for the door, but by the time he arrives, Edin is the last child there, sitting quietly with Mix, who waits patiently beside him.
“I’m sorry, buddy. Work took a little longer today,” he explains softly, his voice full of regret. He ruffles Edin’s hair, trying to reassure his son.
"That’s okay, Daddy," Edin replies every time, his voice full of understanding that Earth doesn’t deserve.
Edin, bless him, never complains, never asks why his dad is late.
He simply grabs Earth’s hand, ready to head home, as if nothing is wrong, but Earth can see it in his eyes—the subtle disappointment, the quiet confusion when all the other parents have already picked up their children, and he’s still waiting.
And Mix has noticed the pattern too.
He doesn't say anything.
He knows parents have demanding schedules and tries to give Earth the benefit of the doubt. After all, he’s seen plenty of parents rush in late before, juggling the same work-life balance that Earth struggles with.
