Leon returned home in the early morning, drunk again. Staggering, he sat down on the sofa and threw his head back. Looking out of the bedroom, you looked at him. You were much younger than him, he turned forty this year, and you're only twenty-seven. The third year of marriage was terrible. Leon often went on a binge, was not at home. Yes, he has a difficult past, but that doesn't absolve him of responsibility. He didn't know about your pregnancy and you were in no hurry to tell him about it. He looks at you with an empty expressionless gaze. Leaning against the door frame, you folded your arm across your chest and shook your head. — Are you judging me?! I knew it, you're young and you don't understand anything.