True Love Read online

  True Love

  By

  Jacqueline Wulf

  True love is always to be admired, but sometimes it is found at a cost. Sometimes that cost can be too great for even the most devoted romantic. Sometimes it might even cost you your life. Are you willing to die for true love?

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without written permission by the author.

  Copyright 2013 by Jacqueline Wulf

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 1

  One thing Mykael especially loved about his beautiful, if somewhat ditzy wife, Summer, was the way she smelled when she stepped out of the shower, steam pouring out of the door with her, soft terry cloth wrapped around her otherwise naked body, a few beads of water still clinging stubbornly to her skin, glistening on her bare shoulders, her dark hair gleaming wet like a seal’s skin. God, how he loved that woman. Mykael loved her so much he would do anything for her. He’d die for her if he had to. He knew he could never live without her, anyway. He was so happy he’d met her, so happy he’d married her. She was his one true love and she made his life complete like no other woman could ever do.

  He only wished she loved him just a little bit more than she did. Maybe then their marriage could be more like his parent’s marriage had been. His parents had always had the most perfect marriage, the most perfect relationship. And Mykael, knew they were not just playing roles. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that their love was genuine. They’d found true love. Mykael tried not to envy them, but some days that was not the easiest thing to do.

  His parents were always so affectionate and sweet to each other. They’d been high school sweethearts who somehow never lost what they had. Never lost the magic. Somehow, they grew into love, not out of it. It had never been that way with Summer, but Mykael had married her because he fell in love with her at first sight and never stopped loving her. He still hadn’t. He would love her until the day he died. Summer was another story. Some days he felt that she simply tolerated him, other days he felt she really liked him, at least, and on the really good days he could almost feel that on the rare occasion when she told him “I love you” she might actually mean it, at least a little.

  In his heart, he felt that his love might warm her up to him to him eventually, might someday make her love him the way he loved her. He figured he could hope, at least. If a man can’t at least hope that his wife might love him someday, what can he hope for?

  Mykael knew that Summer loved him for his money, first and foremost. He wasn’t a stupid man. He designed computer programs and, five years ago, when he’d written that first one that had made him his first million, he’d known he had it made. In the computer world, and in any other world, you couldn’t afford to rest on your laurels once you made it big, but you could sure afford to at least take a little time now and then to enjoy your hard work, maybe even find someone to share your life with, if you were lucky.

  He met Summer at a cocktail party and didn’t even try to fool himself about why she found him so attractive. He was a good enough looking guy, took care of himself, ran two miles a day, tried to eat healthy most of the time. Didn’t live on pizza and beer like some of his old college buddies did. Those were mostly the ones who dropped out, of course. Mykael had better sense than that. He knew what he wanted in life and knew what he had to do to get it. The only area he was lacking in was love. He’d spent too many years on his education and then on his career that he never got a chance to meet the right woman. Until now.

  Summer moved in on him fast and he let her. She was five eight and had long silvery blond hair and grass green eyes. The day he’d met her, she’d been wearing a little emerald green dress that made her eyes appear even greener. She was stunning to say the least. No man could have failed to notice her, and Mykael could never have resisted her, even if he’d wanted to. Luckily he hadn’t wanted to.

  She was great in bed, and at least that made up for her shortcomings in other areas, at least at first. Later, after they were married he couldn’t fail to notice that she just didn’t seem as into sex as before, and, he figured why should she be, not now that she had that piece of paper that she wanted.

  He wasn’t a total moron, though. He’d gotten a standard prenuptial agreement which his lawyer had insisted on. Better safe than sorry, he’d said, and Mykael couldn’t really argue with that. In his early days Mykael had nothing so he knew what broke felt like. The money hadn’t made him a greedy man, he was more than happy to share his money and his life with this woman in exchange for companionship if that was all he could have. But she wasn’t going to leave him and take his money, too. Not that he thought she would. Even Summer didn’t seem that cold hearted, but people could change, he knew, especially when things went bad as they sometimes seem to do, especially with love.

  But, Mykael wasn’t going to let anything go bad or go wrong in his live and with his marriage. He was determined to win his wife over in spite of her initial coolness. He bought her flowers, candy, jewelry, theatre tickets, romantic beach vacations, you name it. Anything her heart desired was hers.

  After they’d been married about six months, in a fit of anger, Summer had smacked him the first time. He was sure she’d been drunk. She would have never done such a thing otherwise, Mykael told himself. She’d walloped him a good, clean one, right across his cheek. It had actually surprised him more than it hurt, but it had hurt, too. Though his face hurt, his heart hurt worse.

  She’d left an angry red hand imprint which he noticed when he checked his face in the mirror after she’d spun on her heel and walked out the front door in a big huff, slamming the door loudly behind her. Seconds later he heard her peel out of the driveway in her Ferrari.

  At first, he didn’t understand how she could act this way, it was uncharacteristic even for her, it was absurd. Even if she was drunk. Adults did not act this way. People didn’t treat people they loved, or liked this way, did they? Of course not.

  Later, though, when she still had not returned, Mykael was torn between worrying about her and worrying about what he would do when she came back, or worse, what he would do if she didn’t come back. He sat down on the bed, tired after the long day it had been, but not wanting to go to bed without her. He’d never gone to bed without her, not in all the time they’d been married. That was something, wasn’t it? Even if they just lay down, side by side and slept, at least they were together.

  Mykael noticed Summer’s purse on the nightstand and became even more worried that she hadn’t even thought to take that. What if she got pulled over? He pushed that thought out of his mind. She wouldn’t get pulled over. Besides, Summer could certainly handle herself if she did. Heck, all she’d have to do is bat those pretty long lashes at the cop and he’d surely let her off, wouldn’t he? Mykael would. He figured that was probably why he wasn’t a cop. He was too soft hearted. He wondered if she’d taken a different purse. She had quite a few, the best his money could buy. Maybe she’d switched them. He wasn’t normally one to snoop, but he figured that the situation warranted at least checking, so he opened the purse wanting to make sure she at least had her billfold, her id and atm card, in case she needed those things. He could worry less knowing she was covered in case of an emergency. But instead of easing his fears, what he found in her purse made him worry even more.

  Chapter 2

&nb
sp; What he found in her purse was a small packet of pills which he did not recognize. Not that he would. Mykael was healthy as a horse and didn’t need to take any medications. But he figured these weren’t medications. Medications came in bottles with labels. Were these some kind of illegal drug? If so, he thought that might explain her sudden anger fit, and her recent moodiness, even more so than her recent increase in cognac consumption. He knew drugs, any kind, and alcohol were an even worse combination.

  His mind reeled at the possibilities. Was she supporting her drug habit off of him as well as he alcohol habit. Had she always been doing so, since she met him, or was this a recent turn of events? Did it matter? What mattered was getting her the help she needed. Maybe then she could be the wife he needed. A wife who could actually love him.

  He’d stupidly tried to ignore the alcohol as best he could. But he couldn’t ignore this, too. He felt like a louse for ignoring her before, when she needed him so badly as he could plainly see now. He swore to himself that he’d make it up to her. And Mykael was a man who never broke his promises. In the past, he’d let his own anger get the best of him, to his shame. It had been only once, but he still beat himself up over it sometimes, especially when he was feeling low. He was glad he’d only let go once, but that was enough. He was determined he was never going to make that mistake again.

  One night, after Summer had imbibed too much cognac she’d called him a “lousy fuck” and it was the last straw for him. He’d been getting more and more fed up with her at that point.He slapped her. He wasn’t proud of it, but he was man enough to admit it and he was man enough to vow, to her and to himself, that it would never happen again. Maybe she didn’t believe him, he wasn’t sure. Maybe the promise didn’t mean that much to her, but it meant everything to Mykael.

  At the time, though, she wasn’t listening to any promises, and he’d been too stunned to make any then. At the time, she went ballistic on him, punching him with all her strength, kicking him, and swearing like a sailor. The girl had a mean left hook and he damn sure wasn’t paying for any Tae Kwando lessons for her because she kicked his ass good already. No lessons needed.

  The scariest part, though, was the odd glint in her eye. That frightened him more than anything. It was like pure hatred shining through right then, and she acted like she didn’t even know who he was. Mykael wasn’t some scrawny computer geek type, he could hold his own in a bar fight, though he wasn’t a scrapper. But the girl plain out scared him. He decided then and there he wasn’t about to piss her off again, not if he could help it.

  That was the problem, though. If you didn’t really know what you did, or if it was even you at all, how could you make sure you didn’t do it again. Mykael felt helpless then, cold and alone. He didn’t even have his disinterested wife to turn to. He felt more alone than he’d ever felt in all of his life. Being alone with someone was so much worse than being alone by yourself.

  He wondered if he was codependent, decided he probably was, but he didn’t care. He loved Summer, he still did, and he wasn’t about to leave her no matter what. He’d figure out a way to help her, figure out a way to make their marriage what it should be. There must be a way.

  When his lady cooled down Mykael apologized, sent her the biggest bunch of roses he’d ever seen, all in a crystal diamond cut vase. It was vintage, of course, and had a lovely emerald green color which made the white roses seem even more stunning. It had also set him back more than two hundred dollars, but Mykael was not a cheapskate. It was nothing but the best for his woman. He’d have sent her red roses, which, in his book meant love, but he knew she favored white so he sent what she liked. He wasn’t picky. He just wanted to make his wife happy, win her back somehow.

  Summer took the vase, set it on the dining room table. While she still didn’t speak to him, didn’t even say thank you, she seemed pleased. Mykael thought he caught an almost smile cross her face once later that evening when she passed by the table and he saw her glance at the flowers. It was a start, he supposed.

  He wasn’t about to give up. Not Mykael. His middle name was romance, and he would be damned if he couldn’t win his own wife back. He had another surprise in store. He was a man full of surprises. He waited until Summer was snoring softly in the bed next to him. Then he stole quietly out of bed, went to his desk and got out the other present he’d gotten her that day. He placed the small ribbon wrapped box on the night stand beside here, where she’d be sure to see it when she got up. He softly slid back into bed then, careful not to disturb her. He couldn’t help it, he drew close, set a delicate soft kiss on her cheek, then rolled over and went to sleep with a smile on his face. She was as good as his again.

  In the morning Mykael showered and dressed without disturbing Summer, ate a toasted bagel with cream cheese, washed it down with a tall glass of orange juice and left for work. He didn’t have to go in, of course, not everyday, but he liked his work, it gave him something to do with his time. He also liked the great team he had working for him. Besides, he needed to give Summer her space, especially today.

  When he came home, he smiled when he opened the door and saw that the box had done its magic. Summer greeted him at the door with a pink chiffon dress on and a smile that was even prettier on her face. She was wearing the string of pink pearls he’d bought and left her as a peace offering tucked into the little box. They looked magnificent against her creamy white skin. “All is forgiven?” he asked, and she nodded, still smiling.

  But when he tried to take her into his arms, to kiss her, she shocked him by pushing him away. “I’m sorry, Myk,” she said, taking a step back, away from him. He stared at her questioningly. “I just don’t feel like it,” she said, shaking her head, softly. She looked like she was about to cry. Mykael didn’t know what to do, he wanted to take her in his arms, kiss her, make everything all right between them, but he couldn’t. He did the only thing he could do. He walked away. She went to bed early that night and was already sleeping soundly by the time Mykael finally tried to get to sleep. Sleep was a long time coming for him. Did that mean he cared more, worried more than she did. Probably, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about that. Sometimes he hated that about himself.

  While he lay awake trying to sleep, Mykael wondered for the first time if she was seeing someone else. The thought crept up on him in the night, startled him at first, but then, when he really considered it, he could see how, if it were true, it would seem to explain everything. Unfortunately it was not an explanation Mykael could live with. He shoved it out of his mind forcefully determined never to think such a thing again. Besides, it was just his stressed out imagination trying to get the best of him, he reckoned. And if it wasn’t, well, if it wasn’t it was in the past, whatever she might have done, might be doing, was all in the past. All you could do was take things one day at a time and keep moving forward. The future was all that mattered, wasn’t it? And his future was with Summer.

  It was a month later, and Summer had come home late, and drunk again. She blew him a kiss and took herself right up to bed, passing out on her side of the bed fully clothed. Mykael thought he smelt a hint of cologne on her, though, but he quickly dismissed that thought as his imagination again, playing tricks on his overstressed mind. Sure. At the time he didn’t know what else he could have done. He had never been accused of being the brightest guy out there, not when it came to love and relationships and real life. He was a visionary at work, and, perhaps unfortunately, a dreamer when it came to the rest of his life.

  The very next night Summer came home late again, and this time Mykael was ready for her. This time she did not pass out, either. This time he was sure he smelled cologne again, the same kind as the night before. This time he would not dismiss it so quickly. Before he could say anything, though, she was already in the master bathroom with the door shut tight behind her. He was going to knock but he heard water running so he sat on the bed, waiting and thinking.

  A half an hour later she walked out of the
bathroom wearing nothing but a lavender bath towel. It was an extra large towel and she had it wrapped and tucked tightly around her. It covered way too much. Her milky white shoulders were deliciously bared though and Mykael stood up, slipped behind her and tried to kiss that tantalizing bare neck.

  “Quit, Myk, please,” she said in an annoyed tone. “Why should I?” he demanded. “You are my wife.” She stood there staring and silent. “Don’t you have anything to say?” Mykael asked. Staring right back into those eyes he loved. She started to turn away. Before she could, Mykael shoved her and she landed in an untidy heap on the satin bedspread. The towel splayed open showing him everything that he couldn’t have. Everything he should have. She tried to grab the towel, throw it around herself again but he wouldn’t let her, he pushed her hands down, covered her mouth with his, kissed her hard. She slapped him, and tried to struggle to her feet. “You son of a bitch,” she shrieked, her face turning bright red. Mykael didn’t care right then, he was beyond caring.

  He shoved her back down on the floor and the pretty lavender towel fell to the floor. He kicked it out of her reach and stood towering over her so mad he couldn’t speak. “You bitch,” he said finally, when he could get words out again. “Don’t you dare slap me. All I have ever done is be good to you, try to treat you the way a woman should be treated, give you everything and you treat me like this?” He felt his own cheeks grow red and his blood pounded in his temples. “You’re my wife and I am going to fuck you right now, good and hard.”

  Mykael didn’t know what came over him then, the pure frustration of the last years, the indifference, the humiliation he felt because of her. Sheer sexual desperation? Whatever it was that had caused it, Mykael knew it didn’t excuse his actions, but it didn’t stop him either. He would have fucked her right then and there whether she’d wanted him to or not, but he didn’t have to force himself on her. Thank God he hadn’t. What scared him was that he would have. He knew that right then he would have if it had come to that.