The Art of Learning to Love

19

He touched the baby pink blanket that was neatly rolled in a gray basket, liking how soft the fabric felt. It was a very pale pink that would look pretty bundled around his daughter, Hiroshi decided as he motioned for a store associate for assistance.

She helped him pick out a few other things; blankets, little clothing sets and a few toys for the baby's later months. All in all he'd spent a cool $1000 euros before he asked for a recommendation on somewhere to eat a nice and proper French meal. The associates were surprised he spoke French fluently, thanking them politely before being on his way, grimacing as a gaggle of Asian tourists crowded the sidewalk a few feet down.

He stood apart from that group in his black Tom Ford pea coat, white cashmere sweater and Burberry scarf, dark sunglasses shielding his eyes. He'd spent a few days recouping, taking care of his injuries before he ventured out to Paris for some shopping before he headed to New York.

He'd also made sure someone had collected his brother, who he had managed not to kill, just barely. He wasn't too sure they'd see each other again, but for the sake of his dead mother, Hiroshi knew he'd keep tabs on him. They were family after all.

For lunch he stopped at a nondescript looking restaurant, with dark woods, vintage decor and a checkered floor that gleamed under his Salvatore Ferragamo boots. He ordered the lunch special smoothly, happy to have the French onion soup and a burgundy beef for his main course, a selection of soft cheeses and a chocolate mousse for dessert.

It was as he was waiting for his coffee that his cellphone rang, startling him when he saw it was his wife.

"Annabel, what is wrong?" He asked immediately, checking his watch for the time in NYC, not liking that she was taking deep breaths.

"Well... my water broke during dinner. But, I'm only about 3 centimeters so they sent me back home... I'm ok, I just thought I should tell you."

"Are you in any pain?" He asked curiously as he motioned the waiter over for the check. He still had 3 hours before he would be getting on the flight that would take him to her. And he hoped she could hold on until he got there.

"Not really. Like I said, I'm ok. Meghan is staying here tonight, just in case, so I'm not alone. I was going to pick you up-"

"No, you stay home. I can get a taxi. Just keep me updated ok? I will see you soon" he promised, hanging up quickly before he was running out the door and flagging a cab down to take him back to his hotel. He had a plane to catch.

*****
His daughter was born at 4:37pm on December 21, at Mt Sinai Hospital, overlooking Central Park.

To him it didn't matter, all he cared about was having Airi is his arms, smiling up at him as she was doing now, her curious eyes searching his face.

He looked over at his wife who peacefully slept after being in labor for almost 24 hours, and couldn't help the surge of pride that ran through him. She had done it all without any drugs and looking elegant as all hell as she managed to hold on until he arrived, their daughter seeing the light of day an hour later.

Placing Airi back in her hospital pod, he carefully walked over to where Meghan had fallen asleep on the available sofa and covered her with a blanket. She had made a fast recovery after Annabel had gotten her out of Tokyo, returning to her normal life and taking self defense classes 3-4 days a week.

He sat in the lone individual chair in the room, looking at the 3 women who were now his family and who he had to protect and care for, and smiled.

He'd do anything for them.

Be it what it may.

He'd finally learned about the art of love, thanks to them.