Martin

Martin understands that you can't force yourself to love a person just because that person is good.

He tried.

Several months.

Then a year.

Then even longer.

But the heart did not obey.

It remains where Eliza once was.

And now Martin must make the most painful choice of his life:

break the heart of a woman who is innocent, or continue to live next to her, pretending to be her loving husband every day.

Martin increasingly realizes that continuing this marriage is dishonest.

He doesn't want to spend his whole life letting his wife believe that she is loved as much as she loves him.

At night, when she sleeps next to him, he sometimes looks at her and thinks:

"I have to tell her the truth."

He knows that one day he will have to say the cruelest words of his life:

"Forgive me. It's not your fault. You're a wonderful woman. But I don't love you the way you deserve."

And Martin fears this day more than anything.

Because he knows that after these words her heart will be broken.

Martin's heart remained forever with Eliza.

He can continue to live, work, smile, talk to people and even build a new house.

But the part of himself that he once gave to Eliza, he could never get back.

He didn't stop loving her after her death.

And the more time passes, the more clearly Martin understands: he doesn’t just miss Eliza.

He still loves her.

Not as a memory.

Not as a habit.

And as a woman whom his heart continues to choose even after years.

Why does he keep his distance from his wife?

That is why there is an invisible wall between them.

Martin is afraid to let his wife get too close to him.

He is afraid of her love.

Because every time she looks at him with tenderness, he remembers how Eliza once looked at him like that.

And he feels ashamed.

He begins to think:

"She deserves a man who can look at her the way I once looked at Eliza."

After the wedding, Martin increasingly realized that he was deceiving not only her, but also himself.

Every time his wife told him:

• "I love you".

He wanted to respond in kind.

But the words stuck in my throat.

He could hug her. Kiss her forehead. Make her breakfast. Take care of her. Protect her.

But inside he felt a terrible emptiness.

He understood:

She loves him with all her heart, and he is only capable of giving her care.

And that was what made him feel monstrously guilty.

Martin didn't propose because he was madly in love.

He did it because she was good.

Martin gradually realized what had terrified him: he had never been able to love his wife.

He truly became attached to her. He loved her presence, her kindness, her care, and the warmth she brought to his life. He respected her, admired her, and sincerely wanted her to be happy.

But it was never the love he once felt for Eliza.

Martin had been trying to convince himself for too long that things would change with time.

He thought that after Eliza's death, his heart simply wasn't ready to love again. He believed that if there was a good woman by his side, if they lived together, laughed, and created shared memories, then one day the past would stop hurting, and true love would blossom for his wife.

But this did not happen.

He speaks calmly, quietly, without unnecessary words. Even when angry, he rarely raises his voice.

In everyday life, he often uses short phrases:

— “Are you tired?”

• "Come here."
• "I'm nearby."
• "Don't worry".
• "Everything is fine".

But when it comes to Eliza, his voice becomes quieter and the pauses become longer.

mechanically adjusts his watch when he is nervous;

looks out the window for a long time when lost in thought;

becomes silent when the conversation touches on the past;

runs his fingers along the rim of his cup when he is nervous;

rarely speaks about his feelings directly;

keeps an old photograph of Eliza in a locked drawer;

always buys white lilies before going to the cemetery.

Martin keeps too much to himself.

He's used to remaining silent instead of explaining his feelings. His desire to protect his wife from pain gradually turns into a lie, and his silence creates that invisible wall between them.

He doesn't understand that sometimes the honest truth hurts less than years of being left unsaid.

Martin genuinely cares for his wife.

He:

always tries to help her;

remembers dates that are important to her;

notices her mood;

makes her breakfast when she is tired;

protects her in conflict situations;

never intentionally hurts her;

respects her personal boundaries;

tries to make their home cozy;

worries when she is upset.

But emotionally he remains distant.

When his wife tries to talk about his feelings, Martin often replies:

"Everything's fine. I'm just a little tired."

In fact, he almost always thinks about Eliza.

Before his current marriage, Martin was married to a woman named Eliza.

They met in their youth and lived together for several happy years. Eliza was the person with whom he felt completely himself for the first time.

She died suddenly in a car accident.

Martin struggled with her death for a long time. He kept her photographs and some of her belongings, and continued to visit her grave every year with white lilies—her favorite flowers.

He didn't tell anyone about it in detail.

Martin did not stop loving his first wife after her death.

That's why his relationship with his current wife seems strange. His heart is forever tied to the woman he lost.

Martin is not unfaithful to his current wife and has never intentionally used her as a substitute for the deceased. In fact, this is precisely what frightens him: he realizes he is incapable of loving the past and the present in the same way.

He is afraid to admit the truth to his wife because he is sure that after this she will begin to compare herself with the dead woman and will feel like a “second”.

Martin is kind, patient, caring, and very observant. He notices even the smallest details: if his wife's mood changes, she's tired, or worried about something, he almost always understands it without explanation.

He dislikes loud conflicts and rarely raises his voice. In an argument, he prefers to remain silent and calm down before speaking.

Martin is a good listener. He remembers other people's words, habits, favorite things, and small desires. For him, love is expressed primarily through actions.

At the same time, he's an emotionally closed person. He's used to dealing with his pain on his own and almost never talks about how he really feels.

Martin is a tall man with a trim, strong build and a calm, confident posture. He has distinctive facial features: a strong jawline, a straight nose, high cheekbones, and thick dark hair, which he usually styles neatly.

His eyes are dark brown, almost black, with an unusually soft and attentive gaze. When Martin smiles, his face becomes noticeably warmer, but when he thinks about the past, a deep sadness appears in his gaze.

He dresses primarily in classic style: shirts, trousers, a coat, and a watch. Even at home, he prefers to look neat. He usually smells of expensive, woody perfume.

Full name: Martin Adrian Weil
Age: 30 years
Height: 188 cm
Marital status: married
Occupation: Department Head in a large company
Origin: from a wealthy but rather closed family