Curling up on the sofa she quietly sobbed and let out her pain. This really was it. This was the pain of childbirth; her second birth, her new life. She was grounded now, this was her place, and she wasn’t just visiting. The reality hit her hard. She could quite possibly never see her family again. And this thought rocked her very being.

After landing in Washington, and passing through US customs, Becca finally gave up the last of her tension. She was home now, she could feel it. The Cross state connection was almost like a bus ride; Almost as soon as she had settled in and began to relax, she was getting off again and back In the bustle of the crowd. She had grown comfortable around Tony, and enjoyed being in his presence. Having insisted on carrying her luggage for her, he saw her to the taxi rank outside the main doors of Norfolk International. Their parting was awkward; neither knowing what was appropriate, and settling for a quick friendly hug.

She had felt nervous leaving someone she had grown quite fond of. Her first and only friend in this new place was gone, and she finally had to work things out herself. Silly, she admitted, as it was little different to visiting another big city in the UK. Regardless the innocent little girl resurfaced, and she felt very aware of her surroundings. He had her number; she felt a few butterflies flit around her tummy as she wondered when he would call.

The Cab driver pulled over in front of a building she recognised by the advert, her place. After helping her with her luggage from the trunk, he was gone.

Standing on the sidewalk, Becca looked up and down the street that was now her home, her neighbourhood, her neck of town. With a sigh, she turned and headed to the door, hitting the apartment manager’s buzzer.

It crackled to live, and a middle-aged woman’s voice answered.

“Um, hi, its Rebecca Anderson, I’m the new tenant for 4C…”

The microphone clicked off and the door started buzzing. Unperturbed, Becca pushed the door open and began to heave her belongings inside the hallway.

A stout middle-aged woman appeared from an apartment near the door;

“Hello dear, you must be Rebecca, its lovely to meet you at last; I hope you had a pleasant journey?”

“Hi, yes, it was fine thank you” she replied smirking at how pleasant it indeed had been.

The Manager led Becca up the elevator to the 4th floor of the building, which was cleaner than Becca had expected, and considering the rent she was paying, surprising. Once the manager had let her in, and shown her around, Becca was left alone.

She stood there, in her new den, luggage around her, and felt a shiver shoot down her spine. She then broke down sobbing. Curling up on the sofa she quietly sobbed and let out her pain. This really was it. This was the pain of childbirth; her second birth, her new life. She was grounded now, this was her place, and she wasn’t just visiting. The reality hit her hard. She could quite possibly never see her family again. And this thought rocked her very being.

Being outcast was one thing, as much as they hated her, she couldn’t bring herself to feel the same way. She loved them with every ounce of her being and that would never change, but her leaving the country broke that tenuous denial in her heart that they still cared. For the first time in her life, she felt truly alone.

What felt like hours later she rose from her trance like depression and began to actually look around her apartment.

The den was spacious and clean looking. The furniture had been included in the rent, and the place was quite comfortable. It would still need those touches before it felt like home though.

Getting up and stretching, Becca dragged her cases into the bedroom and began to unpack her worldly possessions.

After nearly two hours, she felt moved in, and grabbing her coat, headed out of her apartment and down to the street, food wasn’t going to come to her…

Standing on the sidewalk, she tried to remember the map, everything felt so disorientating now she was on the ground. Feeling convinced that she was right, Becca headed off down the road, very wary of her surroundings. Soon, she was on a main road, and nearing a small row of shops, Becca was relived to find a grocery store. Stepping inside was another culture shock to her. Whilst she recognised a few major brands, most of the foods were alien to her by name. Becca was reminded very vividly of how she was now in a different country, just the same language.

Once she had loaded her basket, she proceeded to the checkout area, where a cute guy in his mid 20s rang up her items and packed them in bags for her. He wanted to chat, but she was so shy and overawed by the new experience that she probably came across as rude she thought to herself in hindsight as she walked back down the street.

Several blocks from her apartment, her phone began to ring, nearly causing her to drop her bags. Her heart flipped as she recognised the number, one she had input only that morning.

“Hello?” she answered anxiously.

“Hey there, how are you settling in?” His voice sounded melodic, a happy warm sound that swam around her tummy making the butterflies take flight.

“I’m ok I guess, just been out for groceries and I’m all unpacked, not much of that to do to be honest, did you get home ok?”

How stupid she thought, he was the native, of course he got home ok.

“Hey, so I thought you could do with a friendly face to show you around the city, so why don’t I pick you up tonight, and take you out to dinner?”

The flipping turned into full scale acrobatics in her tummy.

Mentally checking her sparse wardrobe she replied, “Uh ok, sure, since you’re so smart, I won’t need to tell you my address… what time?”

“Well I know I’m amazing, but telepathy isn’t one of my skills yet, so how’s about a trade, I pick you up at… 8, and you tell me where you live?

“Apartment 4C, 232 Columbia Road, ill see you then?”

“It’s a date” And he hung up.

Becca’s heart was racing, not even 24 hours in the US and she was going on a date with a gorgeous, funny, intelligent man… what had she done to deserve this? Why her? Oh god, what about when he found out? It would be good till then, but after? She promised herself that she wouldn’t let it be like the others, she would tell him before it got serious, or she would break it off. Her heart wouldn’t stand being broken again. She would be open early, and suffer the consequences.

Arriving back at her building, she headed inside. She had only brought two going out dresses with her, and only one fitted the bill for tonight.

After depositing her groceries she dove into the shower to shave her legs and do her hair, wanting to look her best.

Becca did her best not to look at her crotch. Seeing that thing between her legs upset her a great deal. It didn’t belong, she didn’t deserve this torment, her nakedness mocked her, she couldn’t be happy while it was still there; it was her skeleton in the closet, only this skeleton donned black robes and a scythe whenever she fell in love; a curse on her heart.

Becca towel dried her hair as she stepped from the shower and slipping on her robe, before padding through to her bedroom.

She selected her dress, a classic Black sheath dress with a sweeping neckline that plunged suggestively towards her cleavage, but keeping its modest distance. She looked good in it, she knew. It’s the dress she had worn to the graduate party at her University department the week before the actual graduation ceremony, she was simple, yet elegant, and she wanted that classic look tonight. Tony was a man that appreciated the finer things in life, and subtlety. The modest glamour of her dress would please him more than 6 inches more of thigh she decided.

She dried and styled her hair into luscious vibrant waves cascading down over her shoulders, and highlighted her deep slate blue eyes and high cheekbones with just the hint of makeup. She viewed her creation in the mirror, classic elegant beauty, he would love it.

As she was checking her hair for the 5th time, the buzzer rang…