Not an absent father, not a father at all — just a fact that had never entered their world.

They had a whole life, a grandmother and a mother and favorite foods and bedtime routines and a sense of who belonged to them, and I was in none of it.

I had imagined, in the wild few minutes since the word twins, some kind of reunion.

She was telling me, gently, that there was nothing to re-unite.

You cannot return to people who never had you.

I would not be coming back into my children’s lives.