First Sleepless Night

The first night home should have been magical.

And in a way, it was.

If magical meant zero sleep, constant crying and both parents questioning every life decision that led them to this moment.

At 1:00 AM, Sirilak started crying.

At 1:02 AM, Norrawan joined in, forming a duet that could shatter glass.

At 1:05 AM, Lingling shot up in bed like she had been summoned by a vengeful spirit.

Her hair was a mess. Her eyes were wild.

She looked like a woman on the brink of a full mental collapse.

"Why are they both crying at once?" she demanded.

Orm, barely conscious, groaned into her pillow.

"Because they're babies."

Lingling's eye twitched.

"But I just put Sirilak down five minutes ago."

"Well," Orm yawned, "she's back up now. Congrats."

Lingling, officially spiraling, launched out of bed like an Olympic sprinter.

She rushed to the bassinet, hovering over the twins like an overworked security guard.

"Are they too hot? Too cold? Do they need a doctor? Oh my God, do they have a fever?"

Orm, still face-down in her pillow, waved a lazy hand.

"Babe... they're just hungry."

Lingling froze.

Her CEO brain was malfunctioning.

Hungry?

Just... hungry?

That was too simple. Too basic. Too manageable.

She needed a bigger crisis to fix.

Her brain, still in corporate problem-solving mode, latched onto the most dramatic solution possible.

"WE NEED TO HIRE A NIGHT NURSE."

Orm groaned, rolling onto her side.

"Babe, we have one."

Lingling, fully pacing now, waving her hands like she was mid-boardroom presentation:

"WE NEED ANOTHER ONE."

Orm, now laughing despite her exhaustion, grabbed Lingling's wrist and pulled her back onto the bed.

"Babe. It's one night. We can survive."

Lingling, wide-eyed, clutched Orm's shirt like she was clinging to her last shred of sanity.

"Can we?" she whispered.

Orm smirked.

"Ask me in three hours."

At 3:00 AM, Sirilak was still crying.

Lingling, now sitting on the floor in a daze, stared into space like a woman who had seen the depths of human suffering.

Her hair was a mess. Her robe was half-off one shoulder. Her soul? Long gone.

"Maybe they're just testing us," she muttered, voice hollow.

Orm, rocking Norrawan in her arms while yawning so hard her jaw nearly unhinged, sighed.

"Babe, they're not planning a psychological experiment. They're just babies."

Lingling slowly turned her head, her eyes dark and haunted.

"I think they're trying to break us."

Orm, barely holding on to consciousness, nodded.

"Well," she mumbled, rocking Norrawan with the precision of a sleep-deprived zombie, "they're succeeding."

From the hallway, a third voice joined the suffering.

Becky, who had heroically volunteered to stay over and 'help,' shuffled in, looking like she had fought in three wars and lost all of them.

Her hair was sticking up in every direction. One of her socks was missing. Her hoodie was on backward.

She squinted at the scene of pure carnage before her.

"Are they still crying?"

Lingling, who now barely resembled a human being, nodded.

Becky exhaled like she had just been handed a prison sentence.

Without another word, she grabbed a blanket, collapsed face-first onto the couch, and mumbled into the fabric:

"Wake me when the apocalypse is over."

Then, within ten seconds, she was snoring.

Lingling stared at her.

Then at Orm.

Then at Sirilak, who was still crying like she had just been betrayed by the entire world.

Lingling let out a slow, deadpan sigh.

"I should have had twins later in life."

Orm, rocking Norrawan, half-asleep and half-dead, let out a weak chuckle.

"Babe, at this point, you should have had twins in your next life."

At 4:30 AM, Lingling faced her worst nightmare.

Not corporate espionage.

Not hostile business takeovers.

Not negotiating a multi-billion-dollar contract while simultaneously crushing her competition.

No.

This was worse.

This was diaper duty.

She stood there, frozen, staring down at her daughter's tiny, very full diaper like it was a live explosive device.

Orm, barely awake and running purely on survival instincts, smirked from the bed.

"Go on, babe. You can do it."

Lingling's eyes darted to her.

"I don't think I can."

"You closed a deal in Hong Kong in under five minutes, Ling."

"That was easy compared to this."

Orm sighed, rocking Norrawan in her arms, too exhausted to argue properly.

"Babe, just open it and wipe—"

Lingling took a half-step back, eyes wide with horror.

"What if it explodes?"

Orm burst out laughing, immediately regretting it as her tired body protested.

"It's not a bomb, babe!"

Lingling, still unconvinced, turned to the changing table like a detective at a crime scene.

Then, without hesitation—

She pulled on latex gloves.

Orm blinked.

"Why are you wearing gloves?"

"I need protection."

Becky, who had been watching this absolute disaster unfold from the couch, perked up instantly.

She grabbed her phone, eyes gleaming with chaotic energy.

"I am recording this."

Lingling's head snapped toward her so fast it could have caused whiplash.

"DELETE THAT IMMEDIATELY."

Becky, grinning like she had just been gifted the greatest content of her life, ignored her entirely.

"Oh no, babe. This is going in the family group chat."

Lingling, horrified, pointed a threatening, latex-covered finger at her.

"Becky, if you send that video, I swear on my billion-dollar empire—"

"Too late," Becky announced cheerfully. "Sent."

Lingling let out a dramatic gasp.

Orm, still rocking Norrawan, laughed weakly.

"Babe, just change the diaper before Sirilak files a formal complaint."

Lingling took a deep, steadying breath.

She could do this.

She had to.

Because her pride was on the line.

With the determination of a woman preparing for battle, she reached for the diaper—

Only for Sirilak to kick out her tiny foot and knock the wipes off the table.

Lingling gasped.

Becky howled with laughter.

Orm choked on her own amusement.

And just like that, the CEO of Kwong Corp was completely defeated.

By 6:00 AM, the house was quiet.

Not the peaceful, serene kind of quiet.

The "we have been emotionally and physically destroyed" kind of quiet.

Lingling, completely drained of all life force, sat beside Orm on the bed, her posture resembling a woman who had just returned from war.

Her hair was sticking up in twelve different directions. There was a faint smear of baby formula on her sleeve. Her robe was inside out.

She blinked slowly, voice hollow.

"Are we... alive?"

Orm, half-asleep, barely clinging to consciousness, nodded weakly.

"Barely."

There was a long pause.

Lingling stared at the ceiling like she was reconsidering all of her life choices.

"How do people do this for years?"

Orm, eyes still closed, groaned.

"No idea."

Another long, dead silence.

Then, like a glitching robot, Lingling turned her head toward the bassinet.

And there they were.

Sirilak and Norrawan.

Both of them.

Peacefully asleep.

Looking small, perfect, angelic.

As if they hadn't just spent the last six hours absolutely destroying their parents' will to live.

Lingling narrowed her eyes.

"Babe."

Orm hummed, too exhausted to fully respond.

"I think they're mocking us."

Orm cracked an eye open. "They're literally asleep."

"Exactly. Too asleep. Like they planned this."

Orm sighed.

"You need sleep, Ling."

"I need answers, Orm."

And yet—despite everything.

The exhaustion.

The crying.

The diapers.

Lingling had never loved anything more in her entire life.

Orm, smiling softly, nudged her.

"Still want to hire that second night nurse?"

Lingling, finally admitting defeat, sighed.

"Absolutely."