Free The Girl He Left Behind by Shilpa Suraj Page A

smelled of Old Spice with an underlying whiff of alcohol. His mother, on the other hand, had aged way beyond her years. She took in the pinched face, stooped shoulders and restless fingers with a pang of sympathy.
    She’d just started to rise from her chair when Ryan walked in, ‘Honestly, Sia, I’m so much more comfortable in your bedroom.’ His cheerful attempt at needling her came to an abrupt halt as he took in the scene in the drawing room. It was fascinating to see how fast he wiped his face clean of all expression. Ignoring Sia’s low groan at his bedroom comment, he walked further in to the room.
    Edging towards the door, Sia said ‘Ryan, I’m going to go change. Please make your parents feel comfortable. If they need anything, let me know.’
    ‘No. Stay. This is your house. I’m sure this won’t take long.’ Ryan’s detached voice cut off her escape before she even made it through the door. Sighing, she leaned against the wall as Ryan walked over and took the chair she’d just vacated.
    Ryan looked over his parent’s heads at Sia trying to blend into the background. He could have let her leave but he wanted a buffer for the unpleasantness he knew was coming and at the moment she was the only person in sight for the job.
    Lowering his gaze, he stared at his mother, ignoring the man sitting next to her.
    ‘Did you want something?’ He asked politely.
    ‘Yes.’
    He watched as his mother twisted the handle of the small purse she carried. Clenching and unclenching, she looked fearfully towards the silent figure of her husband before speaking. ‘Your father and I-’
    ‘He’s not my father.’ Ignoring Sia’s shocked gasp, he kept his gaze trained on his mother’s face.
    Tightening her lips, she nodded just once. ‘Okay. My husband and I feel that it’s time you paid him back for all the money he spent on you during your childhood. You’re a rich man now. You can afford a lot more than the amount you send me every month. It’s not as if-’
    ‘How much?’ The softly voiced question cut her off midsentence.
    Shocked, Sia took in the little tableau. Inscrutable to a fault, Ryan kept his eyes trained on his mother. Ryan’s father or step father or whatever he was had a little smirk on his face as he watched mother and son square off. His mother’s shoulders quivered a little as she faced her son. Even as Sia watched, she straightened her shoulders and tried to look more resolved.
    ‘There is no need for a fuss. We just thought-’
    ‘How much, ma?’ Cutting her off a second time, Ryan waited.
    ‘Fifty lakhs.’ The words fell like boulders in the silence enveloping the room.
    ‘In instalments or a lump sum payment?’ Ryan asked as casually as if he were discussing the weather.
    Flushing a little at his matter of fact acceptance, his mother said ‘One payment and then we don’t have to see each other again. You don’t have to keep sending the money every month either.’
    Rendered practically speechless, Sia struggled to string a coherent sentence together. ‘Mrs Mathur, this is ridiculous. He’s your son.’
    ‘Well, he’s not mine.’ Speaking for the first time, that despicable excuse of a man looked over at her. ‘And you can keep your mouth shut. We came here to speak to him not his whore.’
    Before Sia could blink at the insult, Ryan was around the centre table and had his hand wrapped around his father’s shirtfront. With a violent jerk, he slammed his head down against the table and kept him pinned there.
    The room erupted with his mother’s loud screeches and his father’s sputtering while Sia grabbed Ryan’s hand and tried ineffectually to pry his fingers apart.
    ‘Ryan, you need to let go. Now!’ Abandoning her attempt to dislodge his grasp, she laid a hand on his cheek trying to get him to look at her. When he only shook her off with a feral snarl, she stumbled back a step. Looking helplessly around the room and finding nothing that could help; she abandoned