Mr. Davis loved me too, I knew that, but in a much more selfish way. He loved me as a man loves a possession, not another person, and for all his talk...about setting me free and being my husband, Mr. Davis was always going to be a white man. I was always going to be black.He'd try to pretend otherwise though. I could see it clearly and neither of us would be happy with that charade. It wasn't his stealing me I objected to, it was his confusion. The way he was lying to himself and to me. It was. Esse pehle bhi mainte kai kahaniya likhi hai jo ki mere aapbiti batein thi.or aap sabko bahut pasand bhi aae thi,aaj mai ek or kahani likhane ja raha hu jo bahut romanchit hai.bat aj se 2 sal pehle ki hai mai tab jis company me job karta tha waha pe bahut se larki or larke mere frnd the,mere do frnd ki sadi hone wali thi or dono mere achhe frnd the ek larki jiska nam kushum tha or larke ka nam rakesh tha,kuchum se mere achhi dosti thi kuchh din pehle hum bahut close frnd the or hamare bich. More

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