Toh usne kaha sorry wrong number par message kar ho gya. Mene kaha “Its ok “.. Koi baat nhi.”.Fir uska koi reply nhi aaya. Esse hi 4 ,5 din nika...l gye..ik din whatsapp use kar raha toh achanak mene uska no dekha jis par ik beautiful ladaki ki pic lagi hui thi. Mene dekha bhut kaffi sundar lag rahi thi. Woh sirf selfie pic thi jis mein sirf face tha uska. Lekin face kaffi sudar tha. Pic dekh kar mene use msg kiya “is this your picture?” Yeh aapki pic hai toh usne reply diya yes..haan meri hai.. They got their hands on boxes of these laptops and sold them off for fifty percent less on the streets.At the risk of getting a beat down I wrote my paper on his computer. I was nervous as hell but I kept my ears sharp just in case I heard his car pull up. Finally, after two hours of typing, I got my paper done. I pretty much copied my handwritten notes and made a few minor changes. Since there was nothing left for me to do, I thought I’d do a little snooping. I couldn’t believe the shit I. The only thing even vaguely unpleasant about the evening was the slight essence of treated wood from the sawmill but I was used to that. What I wasn't used to was the feel of Margie's hand as we walked and talked. I could only grin when she slid hers into mine and gave it a squeeze. We'd been flirting with each other all evening and I took that as hope that something more was at least a possibility. That is, unless I did or said something remarkably stupid.Just as we walked in the door an hour. I replied and she showed me a picture of him. I must say he was a very handsome white man but looked to be late 30's, she must of saw a weird look on my face because she replied yes... he is about 12 years older then she was, but he was very wealthy and treated her well he was also much more mature than those she dated her own age. Later that evening I was staying alone but it was still early and light out, as I looked outside the patio I saw the black man walk up to our complex.She lived.