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Claire Redfield smiled to herself as she stepped out of the car and glanced at her watch. She had finished work earlier than she’d expected. It was rare for fate to be so kind to her.
For the past few days, she and Leon had barely seen each other.
He had been preparing for another mission, while she was finishing her own assignments for the organization. They were both used to this kind of life. They knew they couldn’t always count on sharing breakfast, evenings, or weekends together. Paradoxically, that was exactly why every moment they did spend together meant so much.
Tonight was supposed to be one of those moments. No phones. No reports. No alarms. Just the two of them.
Leon had promised he’d be home early, make dinner, and wait for her. Tomorrow morning, he was leaving.
Claire let out a quiet sigh. She hated those departures.
She had never tried to stop him. She knew exactly who Leon S. Kennedy was. She also knew that when an order came down, he had no choice. Just like she didn’t.
Even so, every single time, she felt that same unpleasant weight settle inside her.
What if he doesn’t come back this time?
It was a thought she never voiced aloud. Never.
She unlocked the apartment door. Silence greeted her immediately. Not ordinary silence. The television wasn’t on. There was no music. There was no smell of dinner cooking. Even their coffee machine, which Leon almost ritualistically switched on every time he got home, remained silent.
Claire closed the door behind her.
“Leon?”
No answer.
She slipped off her jacket and placed her keys on the console table. Their quiet clink sounded surprisingly loud. She frowned.
Maybe he’d only stepped out for a minute. Maybe he’d gone to the store.
She walked slowly through the living room. Two mugs sat on the coffee table. One was empty. The other still held a little coffee. It had gone cold. Beside it lay an open book.
Leon never left books open. He always used a bookmark. It was a small thing. But Claire knew him well enough to notice details like that.
She ran her fingers across the back of the couch. The fabric was still faintly warm. He’d been sitting here not long ago.
It really hadn’t been long at all.
“Leon?”
Silence again. Her heart beat a little faster. Not because she expected something bad. It was just… the apartment had never felt this empty before. She walked into the kitchen. A cutting board sat on the counter. A knife lay beside it. A few vegetables had already been chopped.
As though someone had stopped preparing dinner halfway through.
Claire smiled despite herself. That was so like him. He’d probably decided to cook something more ambitious than pasta. He’d likely watched another recipe online and convinced himself it looked easy.
It never did. More than once it had ended with them ordering pizza instead. But he always tried. For her. She put the knife back where it belonged.
She glanced at her watch.
Only a few minutes had passed since she was supposed to be home. Maybe he really had gone out to buy the missing ingredients. Even so, something wouldn’t let her shake the feeling.
She walked down the hallway. The study door was open. Empty. The guest room was empty too. Only the bedroom remained. She pressed down on the handle. The door opened almost silently. The room was dim. The curtains were partially drawn.
No one was in the bed.
Claire stopped in the doorway. Her eyes moved to the sheets. They were slightly rumpled. As though someone had been lying there only moments ago. A faint impression still remained on the pillow. Her gaze drifted lower. In the middle of the duvet lay a small folded note. White. Carefully folded in half.
Claire stepped closer. For a moment, she simply looked at it. Then she sat down on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped beneath her weight.
It was… warm. Only slightly, but unmistakably.
Her heart tightened at that small realization. They really had missed each other by only a few minutes. She reached for the note. Carefully unfolded it. Inside were only two words.
I love you.
Nothing else. No signature. No explanation. None was needed.
Claire smiled warmly. Leon had never been a man who found it easy to talk about his feelings. Not because he didn’t have them. Quite the opposite. He had simply spent years learning to hide them.
It was easier for him to throw himself between her and a monster than to say three simple words. And yet, every now and then, he still managed to surprise her. Just like now.
She traced the uneven handwriting with her fingertips. She recognized it instantly. Slightly slanted letters. Firm. A little untidy. She let out a quiet sigh.
“You idiot…” she murmured affectionately.
She pressed the note against her chest. She had hoped they’d still have at least an hour together. Even half an hour. Anything. Tomorrow they would both return to their own worlds.
Back to reports. Weapons. Missions. Constant danger. She sat motionless for a while. Then she slowly leaned back. The mattress welcomed her.
His familiar scent reached her almost instantly. Fresh laundry. A hint of coffee. And his cologne. Subtle. Barely noticeable.
She closed her eyes. The mattress still held his warmth. As though he’d only just gotten up. They really had missed each other by only a few minutes. Fate had an exceptionally cruel sense of humor.
Claire smiled sadly.
“Next time, I’m not letting you leave the house.” she said quietly, more to herself than to anyone else.
Of course, she knew she didn’t mean it. She would never try to stop him. Just as he would never try to stop her. It was one of the things she admired most about him.
He understood. She never had to explain anything. He never asked questions that had no answers. He was simply there. And that was enough. Lying perfectly still, she listened to the silence of the apartment. At one point, she thought she could hear her own breathing. Then her heartbeat.
And then…
A quiet sound. So faint she almost dismissed it as her imagination.
Click.
The bathroom door slowly began to open.