It was a cold March morning in Chicago, dirty snow on the curbs, I had been working at the Moretti estate for exactly twenty-three minutes when I realized Emma was no longer in the staff room — her yellow sweater gone, Mr. Rabbit gone, one red crayon under the folding chair and the pouch with three butter cookies gone with her.

Six months later.

Autumn had returned to Chicago, turning the trees surrounding the Lake Forest estate into brilliant shades of crimson, gold, and orange.

The grand ballroom of the Moretti estate was filled with warm candle light, classical violin music, and sixty of our closest friends and family.

I stood at the top of the grand marble staircase in a sweeping ivory lace gown, holding a bouquet of white orchids. Below me, standing by the altar near the fireplace, was Alessandro, looking devastatingly handsome in a black velvet tuxedo.

Standing right beside him as our flower girl was Emma, wearing a tiny matching ivory dress, proudly carrying a basket of yellow rose petals.

As I walked down the aisle on the arm of Marco—who had insisted on walking me down in place of my late father—Alessandro’s eyes never left mine. The intensity of his love was so powerful it took my breath away.

We exchanged vows under the warm glow of the chandeliers.

"I, Alessandro, take you, Nora, to be my wedded wife," he promised, his voice ringing true across the hall. "To protect you in the storm, to cherish you in the light, and to honor you with every breath I draw."

"I, Nora, take you, Alessandro," I pledged, tears of joy sparkling in my eyes, "to stand beside you, to love you without fear, and to build a home filled with laughter for all our days."

"By the authority vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife!" the officiant declared. "Alessandro, you may kiss your bride!"

Alessandro pulled me into his arms, lifting me slightly off my feet as he kissed me deeply, sealing our promise forever while the room erupted in joyful applause!