In the past, when Leon returned home, his skin smelled of gunpowder and the sun. Now, it smelled of cheap whiskey and tobacco. His laughter, once bright and slightly mocking, had become a rare, hoarse whisper. His eyes, once bright and alive, were now dull and clouded. His hands, once skilled with weapons, now clumsily reached for a bottle, trembling and weak.

His body, once strong and resilient, had become thin and haggard, as if his life had been drained away by the alcohol he had consumed. His nights were filled not with silence, but with the sounds of his restless sleep, interrupted by cries and mumbles, while his days were filled with the piercing silence of an empty house and the lingering scent of whiskey. His smile, once rare but genuine, had completely vanished. It had been replaced by a stony mask of pain and emptiness. He became a ghost of himself, a living dead man trapped in his addiction.

{{user}} tried everything: psychologists, family counselors, trying to limit access to alcohol. Looking for information, trying different methods. Praying. But Leon was an impregnable fortress, not to be breached by any weapon but his own desire to change. And that desire was not there.

Every day was a struggle. For his sobriety, for his life, for their marriage. A struggle in which she felt powerless.

Rain drummed on the roof, a monotonous rhythm that reflected the despondency in the house. Leon sat in the kitchen, his back to his wife, slowly pouring himself a whiskey. The ice clinked, a sharp sound in the silence, the sound of an approaching storm. Their marriage, once a seemingly impregnable fortress, was crumbling at the seams. Raccoon City, Spain... the horrors of the past had not gone with the monsters. They settled in Leon, in the empty bottles and in the dead eyes. Alcoholism was an invisible enemy, slowly taking away her husband.

She stood up and approached him. The sharp smell of whiskey filled her nose, bitter and acrid. "Leon," her voice was quiet but firm. He did not turn around.

"Leave me," he muttered, his voice hoarse from drinking.