Day One:
Annabelle looked at the acceptance letter one more time, scarcely believing she'd got the job. She'd lived in a rural area of Ireland her whole life and now, after a hopeful application to a bank in London, she'd been hired. She couldn't believe it, it made little sense that they'd pick her over other, surely more suitable candidates?
"I... still can't believe it," she said to her fiancé, David. "I'm not sure I want to go, the big city, London, it's too much for me. We're going tomorrow and I don't know what's going to happen to us."
"It's going to be amazing, a whole new life, exciting opportunities," he said, touching her shoulder as a gesture of support. "Just think, all the bands you like, you can see them live now. The cinemas, the restaurants, the melting pot of different cultures."
Annabelle nodded, knowing he was right.
"And just think, we'll both be earning decent money now, we can live properly, together. Forever."
She looked up, love in her eyes. He was so kind to her, sometimes she thought she didn't deserve him.
"Of course, of course," she said. "I just don't know about leaving my friends, this place. I've never gone far afield and... it's overwhelming."
"It'll be fine. Trust me."
David was right, it would be fine. For entirely different reasons than he expected.
Day Two:
Annabelle looked out the plane as it took off, Ireland disappearing beneath her. A single tear rolled like a cliché down her cheek. She had to be positive. This was a new life, a new beginning for them. They'd be earning good morning, they could go on holidays, they could plan a family. All things that were in the distant future back home. Why was she so upset? Both her parents had died, she had no real close family in Ireland now... so why did she not want to leave? She'd been looking after herself for a few years now, since she was 19. Now 23, she was a healthy, beautiful young woman heading to the big city. This was her big shot, to make a difference, all those things. So why was she sad?
There were so many things to look forward to, people to meet, things to see. She'd lead a sheltered life, not really being exposed to much beyond the internet. She'd had girlfriends who'd talked about this and that, boys and - in one case - girls, but she'd always been resolutely straight, never deviating from her moral path. David was a local boy who she knew was a bit more adventurous, but not that much. He'd got a job in the city and she'd applied for one as well, never expecting to actually get anything. She'd have been content to be a housewife, at least at first. But here she was, the main breadwinner, and flying off to parts anew.
She had this funny feeling that life was going to change for both of them. She didn't know why, but she felt that it could be the start of something wonderful, something so extraordinary she'd never want to come back. Or it could be a total disaster. Maybe that's why she was sad.
Day Three:
"Wow, this place is great. The bank owns this and rents it to employees? Amazing."
David and Annabelle were stunned by the apartment. It was huge, lavish, luxurious. Everything was provided for them, big TV, stereo, full kitchen, balcony. It was extraordinary, nothing like her home in Ireland. And it was all hers. Well, her and David's. Well, the banks. Whatever, they were living here and she couldn't be happier. This was definitely a place, with a bit of personalisation, that could be a home for them.
"You want to go out, check out the area? A nice little romantic walk, eh?" David laughed, still trying to take the new place in.
"Yeah, ok, let me just freshen up," Annabelle said. She went into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Crossing to the pristine sink, she looked at herself in the mirror. They'd stayed in a hotel the night before, by the airport. It was nice, better than she expected, but this was something else. A smile slowly broke across her face and she grinned. Things were looking up for them. She began to think she could really like it in the city.
Little did she know just how much she would like it.
Day Four:
The gym was located across the street and, as an avid fitness buff, Annabelle felt the need to head over to do a few miles on the running machines. She was nowhere near confident to go running the streets of London like she'd done in Ireland. There weren't many people in the gym when she got there. Most people would probably be at work, but Annabelle didn't start for a month. The bank were letting her get settled in. She was still struggling to understand an employer who could be that generous.
"Can I help you with anything?" a voice said as she gazed at the treadmill, trying to figure out just what was going on with it.
"No, it's... er, fine," she said, turning to face the mystery voice. A tall black man was standing next to her, wearing only a pair of tight shorts around his waist and some training shoes. His torso was sculpted like a classical statue, muscles rippling, not an ounce of out of place fat anywhere. Annabelle's eyes were drawn downwards inexorably to his groin, a huge bulging mass clearly visible behind his tight shorts.
"Er...." she said again, unable to tear her eyes from it. What was wrong with her?
"Let me show you how things work," he said. Was that a double entendre? She wasn't sure. As she showed her the machines, some she was familiar with and some she wasn't, Annabelle only half took in the information. Her brain and eyes were more interested in the glistening physique and extraordinary groin of the man. When he'd finished, she thought she might swoon at the sight of his body, sweaty, manly and... oh wow, what was wrong with her? She'd never had a man have such an effect on her.
Then again, she thought, just how many guys were there like this in Ireland? Not enough. Did she really think that? What was wrong with her? She was happily pre-married, thanks very much. But the man... she couldn't shift his image from her mind as she walked back across the street to the apartment.
As she lay in bed, thoughts of him continued to plague her. She couldn't sleep, her body was disturbed enough to be... oh God, was she wet? She touched herself and discovered yes, she was sopping wet. Thinking about a black man! She needed to talk about this.
"Darling," she whispered, nudging David out of his slumber, "we need to talk."
"Mmm, what is it?" he said, sleepily.
"I, er, don't know quite how to put this... but there was a man at the gym and I ... well, I kind of found him ... hot. I'm sorry."
David sat up. He was a skinny man really, Annabelle noticed. It seems strange to say that, but she'd never really paid any attention, but after seeing the black man today, suddenly his lack of adequate physique was noticeable.
"It's ok, honey," he said. "Everyone looks at other people every so often. I see other women and think they're nice, it's fine."
"Yeah, but... I thought... well, my... urgh, how do I put this?"
"Just say it, I won't be mad," he said, softly, fully awake now.
"Ok... well, my ... place is really wet and I was thinking about him. The man in the gym. It's bad."
"Well, I'd much rather you think of me and get like that," David smiled, "but it's ok, it's natural."
Annabelle smiled, but deep down she knew it wasn't. What she was feeling now wasn't natural. She didn't know what it was, but she'd never felt it about David. Even when they'd had sex, not bothering to wait for marriage like their parents would have wanted, she'd never felt this... desire before. It was wrong and she knew it.
