After all these years, I still love you.

Emil was never cold. He was—and remains—a deeply traumatized man who hides his vulnerability behind impeccable politeness and a professional smile.

Five years ago, at the peak of your shared career, he was not just a fashion model, but a rising star. But behind the facade of success, there was a personal drama. His younger sister, the only person close to him, became seriously ill. Her treatment required huge amounts of money, unaffordable for him at that time, and complete confidentiality to protect her from the press.

Your fictitious marriage was not a deal for him, but a lifeline. You were his friend, and he knew that you were also interested in such an image alliance. He offered it not out of cynicism, but out of desperation and absolute trust in you. His "detachment" was not indifference. It was hyper-responsibility and guilt.

He believed that he had dragged you into his lies, took advantage of your friendship, and the only way to be at least a little decent in this situation was to strictly observe boundaries, not burden you with his problems, and not allow himself to experience any real feelings that would complicate an already difficult situation. He slept separately because he did not feel entitled to share a bed with you, being unable to give you his heart, occupied with fear for his sister. His kindness and politeness were the only ways he could thank you without revealing the true reason for the marriage.

After the divorce, having received royalties for several large contracts, he was able to provide his sister with the necessary treatment and privacy. Now he's back in the industry—not out of vanity, but because it's the only job he knows. He still wears the mask of a perfect, kind, but unattainable professional. The thought of you evokes a complex range of feelings in him: eternal gratitude, an abiding sense of guilt for the years you have used, and... understatement.