Aaron didn’t plan to stop by the construction site after school, but he found himself driving there almost on instinct. The day had been long, noisy, and full of the kind of small problems that stacked up until they felt heavier than they should. He wasn’t avoiding going home—at least he didn’t think he was—but something about the unfinished house kept tugging at him, like an unresolved question he couldn’t stop turning over in his mind.

When he pulled into the gravel lot, the sun was low, stretching long shadows across the ground. A few workers were still packing up—loading tools into trucks, folding tarps, shouting instructions to each other. The air smelled like concrete dust and something faintly metallic.

Aaron stepped out of his car, hands in his jacket pockets. He didn’t know exactly why he was here. Maybe he just wanted to see progress. Maybe he wanted a reason to tell Julia that things were moving forward, however slowly.

David stood near the side of the house, talking to one of the workers. When he noticed Aaron, he raised a hand in a half-wave. The worker walked off, leaving David alone.

“Didn’t expect to see you,” David said, adjusting his helmet.

“Just wanted to check on things,” Aaron replied. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You’re not interrupting. We’re just wrapping up.”

Aaron looked around. The front porch still had missing boards. The siding on the left corner bulged slightly, like something underneath hadn’t been aligned properly. A stack of unused drywall leaned against the wall, wrapped in plastic but gathering dust.

“Any updates?” Aaron asked carefully. “On… everything?”

David blew out a breath. “Depends what you mean by updates.”

Aaron waited.

David scratched the back of his head. “Look, delays happen. You know that. It’s not ideal, but it’s part of the job.”

“I get that,” Aaron said. “But the six-to-eight-week delay seemed pretty sudden.”

David hesitated, his eyes drifting toward the far end of the site where a mound of dirt had been re-piled. “Yeah, well. There’s been… stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Just stuff,” David repeated, which wasn’t an answer.

Aaron frowned. “David.”

David let out a frustrated exhale. “I shouldn’t even be talking about this. It’s above my pay grade.”

“That doesn’t make it less important to us.”

“Yeah, I know,” David muttered. “I know.”

A worker called out from across the lot, asking about a shipment. David shouted back that he’d handle it later, then rubbed his forehead like he was massaging away a headache.

“There were inspection issues,” he said finally. “Not with your house specifically. With the whole development.”

“What kind of inspection issues?”

“Grading. Drainage. Electrical. Take your pick.”

Aaron felt a strange, cold drop in his stomach. “Is it dangerous?”

“No,” David said quickly. Too quickly. “Nothing like that. It’s just… bureaucratic crap. Paperwork. Permits. Sometimes it slows everything down.”

“But enough to delay two months?”

David didn’t answer right away. He looked down at his boots, then back at the house.

“There’s pressure to finish fast,” he said quietly. “Faster than we realistically can.”

“Pressure from who?”

“Everyone.” He almost laughed, but it wasn’t a real laugh. “Developers want to sell faster. Buyers want to move in faster. The company wants progress photos every week. And the workers? Half of them quit last month because they’re exhausted and underpaid.”

Aaron’s chest tightened. “Is that why things look—” He gestured vaguely at the house. “—incomplete?”

David didn’t deny it. He didn’t confirm it either. He just looked tired, in a way Aaron hadn’t noticed before.

“We’re doing what we can,” David said. “But if you’re asking me whether everything is running smoothly…” He shook his head. “No. It’s not.”

A long silence settled between them, heavy but unspoken.

Aaron cleared his throat. “Julia’s worried.”

“Yeah. I figured.” David shoved his hands into his pockets. “She came in hot the other day. Can’t blame her.”

“She’s stressed,” Aaron said. “It’s been a lot.”

“I know.” David looked at him carefully. “She’s not wrong, you know. About the updates. They tell us to keep things positive when we talk to buyers. Even when we know better.”

Aaron swallowed. “So you knew this delay was coming.”

David’s shoulders dropped a little. “Not for sure. But I had a feeling.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I’m not supposed to.” David rubbed his eyes. “And because I hoped I was wrong.”

Aaron didn’t speak for a moment. He looked at the house—its half-done siding, the plastic flapping in the wind, the porch that still didn’t look sturdy.

It felt wrong to stand here and imagine that someday this place was supposed to feel like home.

David followed his gaze. “It’ll get done,” he said. “I’m not saying it won’t. Just… brace yourselves. It’s going to be messier than you two expected.”

Aaron nodded slowly. “Thanks for telling me.”

“Don’t tell anyone I did,” David said. “Seriously.”

“I won’t.”

David started toward the storage shed, then paused. “Aaron?”

“Yeah?”

“You and Julia… you’re good, right?”

Aaron wasn’t sure why the question hit so hard. “We’re… trying.”

David nodded. “Everyone tries. The ones who last? They’re the ones who keep trying even when it sucks.”

Aaron didn’t know whether to feel comforted or exposed.

David walked off, leaving Aaron alone beside the house.

The wind picked up, stirring the plastic again. It flapped against the frame, a sharp, restless sound. Aaron stared at it for a long moment, feeling something uneasy settle in his chest.

He took a picture of the porch—thinking Julia might want to see it, thinking she might not—and put his phone away without sending it.

As he walked back to his car, he felt the weight of David’s words settle deeper. Something was off. More than delays, more than mixed messages. Something was being held back.

He started the engine. The sky was shifting into the deep blue of early evening. He drove slowly, letting the thoughts swirl, knowing he would have to tell Julia eventually. Knowing he didn’t want to add more weight to her shoulders.

But weight had a way of finding its place.  

And something told him this was only the beginning of it.