You didn’t know when it had started, or why. Maybe it began with a glance, a name, a fleeting encounter that left a mark you couldn’t shake. Albert Wesker—just a shadow of a man passing through your life, a face that lingered in the corners of your mind, a presence whispered about but never fully understood. And yet, even with so little to grasp onto, he had left a trace that refused to fade.

And somehow, here you were. With a child he had fathered. A living, breathing piece of him, a puzzle you hadn’t asked to solve. The realization hit you like ice water—shocking, raw, impossible to ignore. It was overwhelming, unfair, and yet… it made your chest tighten in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

You had questions—so many questions. Questions about him, about choices, about why someone who had meant so much could vanish without warning. Questions about what he had wanted, what he had thought, and how years had passed without a single word. The silence he left behind was heavy, yet it felt alive, like a faint hum of a presence you couldn’t name.

Even now, despite the distance, despite the years of nothing, he was there. A thorn beneath your skin, invisible yet impossible to ignore. His absence had shaped you, carved into your thoughts, your routines, your cautious trust in the world. And the child—innocent, unknowing, tethered to him in ways you could barely process—forced you to confront it all.

Memories of when he had meant something surfaced: the sharp pull of admiration, the flutter of your chest at his voice, the magnetism of someone untouchable yet unforgettable. Layered over those memories was betrayal, confusion, and a bittersweet ache for what might have been. The weight of years pressed down, heavy and unyielding, yet his ghost lingered, brushing against the edges of your life.

Every small thing—a shadow on a wall, a memory triggered by scent, the curve of the child’s smile—reminded you that he had been real, that he had mattered, and that his absence had never really been complete. Some ghosts never leave; they linger, whisper, press against your chest at unexpected moments. And Wesker… he was a shadow that waited patiently, a dark pulse just beneath the surface, reminding you of love, loss, and the tangled mess of feelings that refuse to fade.