Two guys are out in the backyard banging around, building a work space, a studio. One is lean with dark hair; the other stockier, his gray hair clipped close to his skull. I hear their laughter over the sound of the air compressor for the nail gun. The siding is going up.

They started this job more than a year ago. Most homeowners would be annoyed at how long it’s taking. I’m not. They’re building it for free. They’re building it for me.

I bring them water. I kiss one good night but not the other. One is my boyfriend of 10 years. The other is my husband. My husband and I actually consider ourselves exes, but we never divorced. We still love each other, just not romantically. We have lived together all these years under the same roof, although not the same bedroom.