"Master is waiting for Ricky in the dining room,l."
I followed in Ricky's footsteps again. Down some stairs and into the dining room . . . maybe. This place wasn't made just for the top. But down below too. How many decades would it take to build a palace as grand as this?
"Going home, apparently... it turns out, bringing your motorbike and car from Irawan's house is an effective way to force you to go home, huh." Ricky turned his face away as if he didn't want to see a mature man sitting so charismatically on one of the dining chairs. Along with a woman who I think is still relatively young. That girl is more youthful than my aunt.
"Ricky... sit down. Let's have dinner together."
Again... Ricky ignored the beautiful woman, who was probably twenty-seven years old.
"You're Ricky's friend?" asked Papa Ricky. I nodded, then nodded timidly.
"Y...yes, Uncle."
"You're Nilam, right?!"
I remembered my spontaneous face when Ricky's Papa called my name. How did he know? Before I had time to ask, Ricky's hand grabbed me and then led me to sit on one of the dining chairs.
"Why did you bring an outsider here, Rick . . . we're going to talk to you about something." the woman half-whispered.
"The other person here is you. Not Nilam." his hiss was sharp and cold.
"Ricky! How long have you been acting like this! This is your Mama, Rick!"
"I already have a Mama! And my Mama is not her, uncle!"
"Ricky! How long are you going to continue like this! The polite one with parents! I am your Papa!"
"Since when did Om become my Papa? My Papa died two years ago!"
"Ricky!"
PYAAR!!!
I swallowed my saliva, which suddenly went dry when Ricky slammed the plate into pieces. Her eyes were red, staring at the girl- her Stepmother.
"You remember... what you did to my family was evil." softly... Ricky said the word. It broke my heart to hear it.
"Ricky! Papa didn't tell you to come to see this rude remark! Does Papa want to ask you why your monthly money runs out so fast, Rick? It's a huge amount of money!"
Again... Ricky didn't answer his father's words. Even I can see Papa Ricky repeatedly rubbing his face roughly as if holding back his emotions.
"If you're not willing to give me, you're afraid that I'll spend your money. You just need to take my ATM card, right? I don't need it either. Or... is this woman afraid that she won't get your money?"
"Ricky! You're polite! Your mother is pregnant!"
"If you're tired of taking care of me... providing a living for me... why do you have to let me be here! I should have gone with Mama, not Raka! I should have been in Raka's position!"