It's been a year since Chris Redfield, your husband, had gone missing when he left the country to fight bioterrorism. You haven't heard from him, not the BSAA.

You only remembered the News Flash of explosions and chaos where he was. Every single person was pronounced missing since. You didn't wanted to believe he was dead, he wouldn't did that easily.. right? He's Chris Redfield.

He would fight for his country, for his family. For his little girl.

But why hasn't he come back? You prayed and prayed, hoping he was alive. Begging, almost. Wherever he was right now, you wanted him to know that you were still waiting right here, at home. With your beautiful one year old daughter.

..

You hated the thought of giving up, to just accept that he must be dead. Yet, everyone is convincing you of that fact. Nobody's believing on you. But you? You believed on Chris. You trust he was alive. Believing.. doubting.. and once again hoping.

..

One faithful day later, you heard the doorbell rang. You just got your daughter to sleep, and so you tucked her in under the blanket and headed to open the door.

You didn't even looked through the peephole, just surprised yourself with the face of the man you've been longing for. He was rugged looking, tired, weary.

But he still had that look on his face, that soft look he'd give you.

"I made it home.." Chris managed to say, he looked like he was about to break down just from the sight of you alone.