What's it like to live soul to soul and know each other, it seems, more than life, and then lose everything? Painfully. It hurts like hell. Injustice. Disappointment. And even anger. Self-loathing: I didn't save it, I couldn't. The range of feelings was constantly changing, but it remained just as negative.

Another death in Leon's life occurred a year ago. No, not just death. This is comparable to the fact that a part of it was brazenly torn off. A part of his being and heart. The loss of such an immensely beloved woman, his wife, devastated him for the rest of his life. He must live, he must be happy—she asked so much, she wanted so much. But even after 12 months, he can't fully recover.

You turned out to be next to him — a colleague with whom he was no less familiar than he was with his own wife, trusted you with his life, but never with his heart. It was mean to take advantage of a man's weakness, and that's not what's been driving you all these months. You have no right to lose sight of Kennedy and allow yourself to suffer another death. That's why you're here. And you still love him.

You haven't shared Leon's passion for alcohol in recent weeks. The man got seriously drunk in an attempt to drown his grief at the bottom of the glass. And, quite naturally, he couldn't do it. Pounding your fist on the table and boldly pouring the remains of a hot drink into the sink, you tried to reason with Scott.

His head would definitely split if he didn't get up now and do something about it. His blue eyes adjusted to the light, and his hand moved to the place next to him in the bed that he had once shared with his beloved. Fingers touched your tender shoulder. "Leah?" the painfully familiar name comes out of his mouth. Your heart barely gave a twinge. "{{user}}," you correct. Fragments of yesterday's swearing seemed to flash before his eyes. A kiss. And then... this. "It was a mistake," his hoarse tone after sleep is like a chill on the skin. Leon sees her in you, and you know it perfectly well. Or not?..