My son tugged on Marcus’s pant leg while we stood looking at the old steel frame.

“Daddy Marcus,” Liam said, “why is Mommy laughing?” Everything went still.

Neither of the twins had ever called him that before.

And Maya, riding on Marcus’s shoulders, giggled and agreed: “Because Daddy Marcus makes funny faces!” I watched the man who had once been banished from my life go red to the ears, my son’s hand in his and my daughter on his shoulders, and I reached into my coat pocket and took out a small velvet box, and I got down on one knee on the gravel.

“You broke through a steel door with a forklift,” I told him, through tears and laughter.