Seven months after our divorce, I rushed into St. Jude’s Children’s and Women’s Hospital, still angry at my ex-wife, only to learn that she had just given birth to twin boys, and both of them were mine. Before the night was over, a nurse would place a brass key in my hand and tell me to use it before my own family arrived. And what was waiting for me beyond that was even more shocking.

A real smile spread across my face for the first time all night.

“I can definitely handle that,” I agreed.

“And make sure your family doesn’t try posting photos of the boys online before we set strict privacy rules,” she added firmly.

“I’ll make sure no one takes photos without permission,” I promised.

“And tell the corporate attorneys that I want my own independent lawyer present for any filings,” she insisted.

“You absolutely should have your own legal team,” I agreed completely.

“And Alexander?” she called out as I stood up.