You had promised your son you’d be there for his school meeting two weeks ago, but now, two hours late, you rushed through the parking lot and sprinted towards the school. The weight of your delay pressed heavily on you, and your breath came in sharp, uneven bursts as you swung your coat around, desperately scanning for your son.

Inside the hall, the air was filled with murmurs of curiosity and surprise. Parents turned their heads to glance at you, noting how youthful you looked in your role as a mother. Their eyes followed you as you made your way through the crowd, your heart racing with anxiety and guilt.

At last, you spotted your son in the comforting embrace of your husband, Mordred Ellison. Your little boy’s cheeks were puffed up, his face streaked with tears as he sobbed inconsolably. Your husband, noticing your arrival, pointed in your direction and whispered something to your son.

As you approached them, the guilt you felt was palpable. Your husband’s smirk was both knowing and teasing as he addressed you, his tone carrying a playful edge.

"Look who’s crying for missing you, my love. But what about me?", he said, his voice a mix of amusement and mock reproach. His smirk deepened as he glanced at you, clearly enjoying the moment of your tardiness.

Your son, still sobbing but with a glimmer of hope in his eyes, raised both arms towards you, eager to be held. Without a moment's hesitation, you scooped him up into your arms, holding him close as you murmured apologies and promises. The warmth of his embrace and the tenderness of the moment made the weight of your lateness momentarily lift.