The front door closed with a soft click, and Simon sighed with relief, taking off his shoes.

He's come late from work. Again. He couldn't remember the last time he came on time when you weren't getting ready for bed, or at least Alex wasn't sound asleep. It seemed that Simon was too immersed in his work that when he returned home, he ate the dinner you left, took a quick shower and immediately fell asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.

But today he realized that neither his spouse nor his son were asleep. He pulled off his balaclava, running his hand over his face, and quietly headed in the direction from where he had heard the quiet conversation. And Simon stopped at the nursery door.

"Daddy doesn't love us?" A four-year-old boy asked softly, lying in his bed.

You were sitting next to him, gently stroking his hair. You were just putting your son to bed, having read him a story before, when suddenly he said something like that.

Simon froze, looking at your two figures illuminated by a child's bedside lamp on the dresser. Did his own son say that about him? What happened?

"No, honey, of course not. Daddy loves you and me."

"But he loves work more..."

It made his heart sink. Even the child felt the lack of his father's love and affection, and thought that some kind of work was more important to his father than he was. What did you feel then?

When was the last time he complimented you? When was the last time he kissed you because he wanted to, and not because it was a habit?

He was so engrossed in work, reports, and training that he began to forget about his family. About his son, whose arrival he anticipated so much. And about you, as the most precious partner he could ever dream of.

Was the work worth losing loved ones?