Homecoming - Chapter Six

The day could not have gone better than it had, Miki mused as she softly slipped out of her son’s bedroom and, gently running her palm over the swell of her belly, went back downstairs to rejoin the rest of the group.

Kazue and Mick had herded their two offspring home a while ago, so it was only her, Hayato, Ryo, Kaori, and little Noemi. She grinned. It was only her, Hayato, and the Saeba family. Because those three looked like a family. Were already a family, though Kaori and Ryo would never admit it.

The way the three of them spent all day together, neither of the two adults more than a few steps away from Noemi. The way Kaori had made space for Ryo to sit beside them, the way Ryo kept bringing the two girls snacks and drinks, asking if they needed anything...The way Noemi kept slipping her hand into Ryo’s when he walked beside her.

They were even dressed alike as if they’d compared notes before meeting this morning. Which Miki knew hadn’t happened. Yet, there they were, sitting in her café, chatting with her husband, wearing matching outfits of blue denim, white T-shirts, black jackets, and black high-tops.

They were adorable.

And if Ryo and Kaori sat any closer together, the woman would end up in his lap.

It was great having Kaori back—she’d missed her friend so much—but it was even better having Kaori back at Ryo’s side. The guy had been a mere husk of himself during the past seven years, though they’d all kept quiet and kept pretending not to notice. She’d noticed, and so had the others.

The difference was even more glaring now, with Kaori back. Ryo was once again...alive. That was the only word that fit. He’d come back to life when she returned, and it was a joy seeing that change. Seeing the real Saeba Ryo. Seeing that special magic Kaori had when it came to him.

She’d half expected the interaction between the two to be glacial today, after Ryo’s unsuccessful attempt at confessing his feelings yesterday. But both of them have acted like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. They’ve joked, chatted, bantered, thrown tender insults here and there.

And the guy hadn’t attempted to declare himself again. Damn idiot! Miki still had no idea just why he couldn’t simply say the words. It would be so easy. Three words was all it took.

I. Love. You.

Obviously, Saeba wasn’t made that way. He talked in riddles. He acted in riddles. And the only one who didn’t get those riddles was the woman for whom they were designed. The woman who should read him like an open book.

Unfortunately, Kaori was still utterly blind when it came to Ryo, so they were at an impasse. An impasse Miki hoped would be resolved soon. Because she wanted them together, she wanted them to have what she and Hayato had. A home and a family. Without fear of repercussions, without subterfuge.

Love always found a way, and she hoped—no, she prayed fervently—that it would find a way with those two as well. They both deserved it. And Noemi, that little angel of a girl, deserved a normal family as well.

Miki had no idea what had happened seven years ago, when Kaori had disappeared. She had no idea how Noemi had come to be, where was the father—a father neither girl mentioned even briefly—and she wouldn’t ask. If Kaori wanted to tell her, when Kaori was ready to tell her, she would, so Miki wouldn’t pry.

But she knew, deep down she knew, the girl’s father was a non-entity in Kaori and Noemi’s lives, so she truly hoped they could find love and acceptance with Ryo. Correction, she knew they would find everything they wanted, needed, and desired with Ryo; she just hoped the guy would make a move before it was too late.

Kaori hadn’t said anything about staying in Japan longer than a few days. They would leave soon if the idiot didn’t make a move.

What the hell was wrong with the man?! Did he really think he had all the time in the world? Wrong. He only had a few days, and he wasn’t doing anything but being friendly toward Kaori and her daughter. No additional moves were involved.

Miki severely disliked pushing people, but she would push, shove, and threaten at gunpoint if it meant spurring Saeba into action.

Although, judging from what she glimpsed as she slipped into the café from their private quarters, she wouldn’t have to do anything. Because little Noemi has decided to play matchmaker on her own. Miki smiled. She’d had an inkling yesterday that the question about Saeba being single hadn’t been that innocent. The girl had set her eyes on Saeba Ryo as her future daddy and was working her little-girl magic to accomplish the feat.

The easiest way was to get Kaori and Ryo alone, but that was impossible with their friends around. With her around. So the little imp had fallen asleep on Ryo’s chest, half of her body in his lap and half in her mother’s.

Miki had to give her credit for the strategy. And the logic. Ryo could easily put both her and Kaori into a taxi, bid them goodnight, and end the story. But he would never do it. He’d make sure they were both safe in their apartment, and to spare Kaori the burden, he would be the one to carry the child.

A brilliant plan that came quickly to fruition.

It took only a glance in Kaori’s direction and her subtle nod for him to pull the child into his arms, let her snuggle closer, bid Hayato and her goodnight, and let Kaori precede him out of the café. But he didn’t call a taxi; he didn’t ask them for a lift...

Miki watched them leave—on foot—in the direction of Kaori’s rental apartment, a picture of a perfect little family. A tall, handsome man with a little girl tucked safely in his strong arms, sleeping peacefully on his shoulder, the woman he loved at his side.

Kaori said something, and he stopped, turning slightly to allow Kaori to tuck Noemi’s jacket more snuggly around the girl’s body. Ryo smiled, Kaori returned it, and when they resumed walking, Miki sighed wistfully.

She didn’t have a camera to immortalize the moment, but she knew that image would always remain with her.