You were running on exactly one hour of sleep, three sips of cold coffee, and pure adrenaline.

The front door had barely closed behind you when the crying started—twice. Both babies. Like they’d made a pact to test your sanity the second you stepped into your house as a mother of two. Your hospital bag was still on the floor, your bra strap was digging into your shoulder, and you were already wondering if you’d ever feel clean or rested again.

You stood in the hallway, blinking at nothing, until Lando appeared behind you with one twin already in his arms. Hair messy, hoodie barely pulled over his head, but somehow still smiling.

“She’s hungry, I think,” he said gently, already heading toward the kitchen like he knew what he was doing. “You sit. I’ll warm a bottle.”

You started to argue. “Lan, I can—”

He turned around, walking backwards with a grin. “Nope. I saw that look. Sit down before you pass out on the stairs.”

You sighed and collapsed onto the couch, curling your knees up under you. Your shirt was wrinkled, you couldn’t remember if you’d brushed your teeth, and your brain was buzzing—but hearing him humming softly to your daughter in the kitchen? Your whole heart melted and puddled onto the floor.

By the time he came back with two bottles, you were holding the other twin, trying not to cry from how much you loved them and how much your back hurt.

He sat beside you, thigh brushing yours, and handed you the warm bottle kissing your temple. No words—just that kiss and his quiet, steady presence beside you, like this is us now and he was all in.

The babies started to calm. You leaned into him.

“I feel like I got hit by a truck,” you whispered.

He smiled against your hair. “Same. But like… the best truck ever?”

You let out a breathy laugh, exhausted, delirious and completely in love.

And then, after a beat, as both babies drifted off again—

Lando whispered, “We made them. Like… us. That’s actually insane.”

You didn’t answer at first. Just rested your head on his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut.

And he sat there, perfectly still, holding both his girls like they were the most fragile things he’d ever touched.

“…You want me to carry them upstairs?” he asked softly.

You nodded, too tired to speak.

“Alright. You take a breath, yeah? I’ve got them.”