Their love story wasn’t one for the ages, but everyone thought the birth of their daughter was a true testament to their devotion. It was purely coincidence, though, that Emily Avani Kriti came into the world on a day meant to celebrate love and companionship. On February 14, 1983, just seven years after their wedding and four after the birth of their son, Amit and Sarita Kriti cooed at the tiny brown-eyed and brown-haired girl in their arms, and for a while, things were blissful.

But not all was particularly well for the little family in their English abode.

It was true that, years prior, Amit had taken a position at a London hospital to practice reconstructive surgery, and it was also true that Sarita followed unwillingly, leaving behind the home and family she loved. Mrs. Kriti spent much of her time chasing after her two children while her husband was away at work, and it hardened her. While most little girls talked of their loving mothers, Emily only knew strict rules and frustrated sighs. She didn’t help matters by growing into an observant, boyish, inquisitive child. But it wasn’t something she could help; she was intrigued by the world surrounding her and the people in it.

The older she got, the more questions she asked. Because her father wasn’t always present to answer her utterly important questions and her mother insisted she behave more like a young lady, Emily turned to her older brother for the truths of the universe. Michael didn’t always have the answers, but he was a boy and boys thought they knew everything, so he relayed as much information — fact or fiction — as he could to his baby sister. He even began to cart her around with him, inviting her to play with the neighborhood boys, despite their protests and Sarita’s discouragement.

In her young age, Emily developed many interests. Politics, theatre, music — but Emily’s main concern was dance. The young girl became enamored with the grace, the poise, the elegance of ballet, and she poked and prodded her parents until they enrolled her in a class. Her mother, who had always wished that Emily would behave more like a respectable young lady than a rowdy boy, was pleased with her daughter’s progress. Even as a beginner, Emily showed much promise in the art of ballet, and her determination forced her to push past her limitations until she was the créme de la créme.

Only a few years later did her parents decide it was time to move back to the United States, the country in which they met. And so Emily, a fresh teenager, was integrated into the American society, earned her citizenship, and began her life in New York City. Her toe shoes were all but hung up in the move; rather, Emily danced more, expelling her frustration with her parents and disappointment in leaving her home behind. But it was in this time, when the young girl was blossoming into a young woman, that she discovered her knack for helping others — particularly children. She was comforted and amused when small girls in pink tutus and leotards mimicked her steps and poses, and she took on assisting the toddler dance classes. They were enjoyable and bright and funny, and soon, Emily began to find her place in New York.

By the time she was ready to be sent off to college, Emily understood that neither dancing nor teaching ballet were profitable (or likely) futures. Instead, she settled on the next best thing: education. In her eyes, shaping the youth meant shaping the future, and she was all too pleased to have a hand in that. She stayed close to home, choosing to be near her family — save for her brother, who broke her heart by returning to London after he finished high school. At New York University, she happily and excitedly delved into her studies, determined to complete her education on time so she could go forth and mentor young minds.

It was in her third year that she met Derek Blake by chance. Emily was hard at work avoiding running into a bad date at the video games store when she smacked into Derek, who quickly tidied her up, slung his arm over her shoulders, and pretended to be her boyfriend so she could successfully escape Bad Date (whose name she’d conveniently forgotten). What followed was a whirlwind of a romance, though both parties refused a relationship because they were burdened with school and work. And when Emily met Jason, Derek — who only wanted Emily to be happy — stepped away from the girl. While Jason was a close match for Derek, and though she developed feelings for him, she could never shake the thought that he just wasn’t right. When Emily and Derek bumped into each other again months later, he confessed his love for her. Overjoyed (and pissed), Emily followed her heart and chose him, and she hasn’t looked back since.

Derek and Emily got married in a multicultural ceremony May 20, 2008, celebrating both her Hindu background and his Catholic upbringing in a two-part event. It wasn't long after they returned from their honeymoon that they discovered Emily was pregnant. At the first flutter of kicks, she fell head over heels in love. When Rory Vadin Blake was born at the start of spring, Emily and Derek gladly sacrificed sleep and showers for the tiny boy they called theirs. And they did the same nearly four years later, when Emily became pregnant for the second time — a girl, chubby-cheeked and dark like her mother, born on April Fool's and named Penelope. Between her career as an English teacher at a Brooklyn high school and her role as loving mother and wife, Emily is in pure bliss. And right now, the Blakes are happy and whole, and that's all they could really ask for.