Hope you enjoyed the story! There may be a sequel coming up soon!

After that day of shopping and bonding with her mother, Hilda finally felt confident with calling Krista her real mother. She was, it wasn't a matter of not being so, the two were blood and Hilda was finally acknowledging this.

In the coming years, many changes happened in the Bielschmidt household. In spring 1958, Ludwig and Krista were wed in a nice ceremony where Kiku, Roderich, Elizavetha, and Feliciano and his family. Romano only went because his brother told him to, and Emilio only attended the wedding to see Hilda, who wore the blush-pink dress with a diamond pendant and her first pair of high-heeled shoes. The heels were somewhat low, but they matched the dress because they were white and simple. It was one of Krista's biggest gifts to her daughter, for it symbolized womanhood and that she was proud of her for growing up so well.

Krista was a beautiful bride even though she hadn't worn a veil. Her dress was somewhat simple, but it was very elegant. It had a long, full-skirt, and the sleeves were ¾ and made of fine Belgian lace. Around her neck was a ruby pendant and she held a bunch of scarlet red roses in her hands. This wedding was like no other because there were no bridesmaids and there was no best man—however, Hilda served as the ring bearer for a moment by getting up from her pew to give the pastor the rings. Upon exchanging vows and rings, the pastor made his final statement.

"I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride," he told them. Ludwig took Krista into his arms and looked down into her eyes lovingly. At last, he had married the mother of Hilda.

"Ich liebe dich," he whispered. Krista knew what he meant and smiled up at him with her pearly white teeth.

"Ik hou van je, Ludwig," she told him as they shared a kiss in front of the attendants. It was tender, soft kiss that was quick but passionate. The bride and groom faced the attendants as the pastor spoke.

"I present to you Herr and Frau Bielschmidt," he announced as the couple made their way back down the aisle as hundreds of grains of rice were thrown at them.

The reception was held at one of the best halls in Berlin, and while all the guests were seated, Ludwig and his new wife were escorted into the hall, where everyone ate and danced. Once the time for their first dance came, everybody watched as Krista and Ludwig illuminated the dance floor with their slow swaying and occasional kissing. Once the dance ended, everybody went to join them on the dance floor. Hilda, without a dance partner, just sat in her seat until a familiar face came and extended his hand out to her. Looking up, she saw it was Emilio—she had not seen him in quite a while, but he was still incredibly handsome with his dark brown hair, amber-brown eyes, and defined facial features.

"Posso avere questa danza?" he asked. Hilda took his hand and stood up slowly, looking deeply into his eyes.

"Prima," she began. "Posso avere un'abbracia?" she asked. Smiling, Emilio took the beautiful young girl in his arms and held her tightly.

"Non ho visto ti in un tempo lungo," he whispered, kissing her cheek romantically. "Sei bellissima, Hilda. Com'é la Germania?"

"É la stessa di sempre. Dopo tutto, sono cresciuta qui," Hilda told him matter-of-factly. Emilio smiled, taking her to the dancefloor to sway to the music. The two gazed into each other's eyes deeply, deciphering emotions that didn't seem present in their expressions.

"Hilda," he told her with a slight whisper. "So sei molto giovane, ma posso chiedere una domanda?"

"Si?" she said, resting her head on his shoulder as he held her hand to his beating heart, which burned with love for her at that moment. He moved closer to whisper in her ear—he didn't want to be heard by anyone but Hilda.

"Se dovessi chiederti di essere la mia ragazza, cosa diresti?" he questioned. He hoped for a positive answer, but Hilda came up with something totally vague.

"Mi ritengo molto fortunato ad essere con ti," Hilda said.

"Spedisci una lettera a me," Emilio told her. "Spedisci una millione lettere."

"Manderò una lettera. Te lo prometto," she told him.

Emilio cupped her face in his hands gently, caressing her smooth, white skin as his lips brushed hers. They kissed passionately, but once she saw Emilio leaving the hall, a certain longing within her grew as she saw him walk away.