3. Giselle
GISELLE
That was all Giselle needed.
Dr. Addie Wolfe was sexy. Her scrubs didn’t hide her generous curves as she lead Giselle to the OR. Giselle slowed down, watching the doctor take brisk steps toward the operating room. She was gorgeous.
But that didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered now was the OR.
She didn’t hesitate as she moved down the hall, her shoes peeling swiftly off the floors. Her mind was zeroed in on the details she’d already memorized—female, six years old, ventricular septa heart defect. The girl hadn’t been prepped for surgery, so now it was a rush.
Panic wasn’t something Giselle had room for.
As she approached the operating room, the sound of chaos hit her.
Nurses were clustered near the entrance.
Behind them, a stretcher barreled down the hall, paramedics pushing it forward.
The girl was strapped down, her face pale, the oxygen mask over her small nose and mouth barely moving with the rise of her shallow breaths.
“Coming through!” one of the paramedics shouted as they neared the doors.
The nurses sprang into action, guiding them into the OR prep area. The doors swung open, the bright lights spilling out as the girl was wheeled through.
Giselle stepped in and immediately felt eyes land on her. The OR team knew who she was—of course they did. Her name carried weight, so they watched every step she took and every move she made.
Dr. Josephine Mars was already there, scrubbing in. “You ready for this?” she asked without turning around .
“Always,” Giselle said, slipping into the gown handed to her by a nurse.
The air in the room was thick with tension. The nurses were attending to the girl’s parents out in the hallway, their frantic voices barely muffled by the door. Giselle caught snippets of their pleas.
“Will she be okay?”
“Can’t we be in there with her?”
The nurses worked to keep them calm and explain the process, but it wasn’t enough. The parents were inconsolable.
Giselle turned her attention to the girl on the table. Her chest moved unevenly under the layers of surgical drapes, her heart barely managing its rhythm. The lines on the monitors beeped irregularly, each blip a reminder of how little time they had.
A nurse called out the details one last time: ventricular heart defect, left ventricle not functioning properly. Previous surgeries had failed to fix the issue. This was it. Her last chance.
“BP’s dropping,” one of the nurses called out.
Giselle moved toward the girl, her gloved hands steady. She could feel the tension in the room grow with each second that passed, but none of it touched her. She blocked it out. All that mattered was the procedure.
She could see it all clearly in her head—the incision, the delicate maneuvers, the exact corrections she’d make. It was all laid out, piece by piece.
“Ready?” Giselle asked, her voice cutting through the low murmurs around her.
The anesthesiologist was already by the girl’s head, adjusting the oxygen and taking note of the medicine’s dosage. She glanced at Giselle as she moved in closer.
“Dr. Carlisle, she’s not stable,” the anesthesiologist said, her voice tight. “You need to be fast.”
“I don’t plan on wasting time,” she said.
Josephine was beside her now, hands up as a nurse prepped her. “Everything ready?” Josephine asked, glancing at the monitors.
“Close enough,” Giselle said. “Let’s get in there.”
The scrub nurse approached with the sterile instruments, laying them out methodically.
The rest of the team moved around the room, adjusting lights and checking the monitors, everything happening in sync.
But Giselle noticed the slight hesitation in their movements—the way they glanced at her, then at each other.
She knew what they were thinking. This was her first surgery here, and they were waiting to see if she’d live up to her reputation.
A nurse handed her the scalpel, and its weight felt familiar in her hand.
The lights above were bright, illuminating the girl’s chest and the shallow rise and fall of her breath under the ventilator.
Her skin looked almost translucent under the harsh light, with tiny veins visible beneath the surface.
“Let’s go,” Josephine said, her eyes on the girl. “We don’t have much time.”
The scalpel hovered above the girl’s chest, and Giselle glanced at Josephine for the briefest of moments. Josephine gave her a quick nod, and then Giselle made the first cut. The rest of the team moved in immediately, handing her the instruments she needed without a word.
The heart monitor echoed in the room, each beep a reminder of how little time they had. Giselle worked quickly, her hands moving with precision. Her focus was sharp, blocking out everything except the girl in front of her.
“Her pressure’s still dropping,” the anesthesiologist warned.
“Then we move faster,” Giselle said, her voice steady.
The room was tense, but she could feel the shift in the team’s focus. They were watching her every move, but now it wasn’t out of doubt. They were falling in line, trusting her to guide them through.
The girl’s heart was exposed now, fragile and small, and Giselle’s breath steadied as she began repairing the defect. The room was quiet as the team focused entirely on the task at hand. No one spoke unless it was necessary.
“Clamp,” Giselle said, and a nurse handed her the tool without hesitation.
The seconds ticked by in her head, each one bringing them closer to the point of no return. But she didn’t rush. She didn’t allow the urgency of the situation to affect her work.
“BP’s stabilizing,” a nurse called out.
Giselle didn’t acknowledge the update, her eyes locked on the girl’s heart. They weren’t out of the woods yet.
“Okay, we’re almost there,” Josephine said. Her voice was a little more relaxed now.
Giselle nodded, but didn’t speak. Her focus remained on the heart, her hands steady as she made the final repairs.
Finally, she stepped back, her gloves stained red. Her eyes twitched.
“Close for me,” she said, nodding to a resident, before handing off the tools to the nurse. “And, don’t fuck it up.”
The resident nodded, eager to please her.
She was satisfied she had saved the girl and the final closing up could be done by a lesser surgeon.
The room exhaled, pausing for a second or two before everyone got back to work. Giselle watched for a moment. Even though their movements were quicker now that the worst was over, Giselle kept her eyes fixed on the monitors, ensuring the steady rhythm of the girl’s heart was no fluke.
She was stable…for now.
Josephine smiled at Giselle. “Good work,” she said quietly.
Giselle gave her a short nod, her face still expressionless. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dr. Addie Wolfe.
Addie had been observing it seemed. Giselle noticed how her face mask and surgical cap framed her face perfectly. She hated it. Hated that, despite herself, she was noticing how beautiful Addie was. Addie didn’t seem to belong in the chaos of an operating room, yet she moved with ease.
Giselle turned away, clenching her jaw. This wasn’t the time for distractions.
The surgery was over. That’s what mattered.
Without another glance at Addie, Giselle pulled off her gloves and gown and tossed them into the bin as she left the OR.
She moved toward the locker room, already shifting the case into the back of her mind.
It was done. The girl was stable, and there was no reason to linger on it.
She had no intention of hanging around to chat with the team or get wrapped up in the post-surgery high some doctors embraced.
As she changed out of her scrubs, the thought of Addie crept back into her mind despite her best efforts to push it away. Addie’s easy confidence was alluring that was for sure. It was easier to avoid these things, easier to walk away and stay distant.
She closed her locker and left the room.
As soon as she stepped into the walkway, a blur of movement caught her off guard.
The girl’s mother was rushing toward her, tears streaming down her face.
Before Giselle could react, the woman threw her arms around her, hugging her tightly.
Giselle stood frozen, her arms hanging awkwardly at her sides.
“Thank you,” the woman said, her voice muffled against Giselle’s shoulder. “Thank you so much. She’s my only child.”
Giselle stiffened. She wasn’t used to this, much less prepared for it. The warmth of the woman’s touch felt foreign, and she had no idea how to handle the raw emotion spilling out of this stranger.
The woman pulled back slightly, but before Giselle could step away, the mother hugged her again, this time with even more desperation. “She’s everything to me. They told me you were the one who saved her life.”
Giselle glanced around, her mind racing for what to do or say. She wasn’t built for this. Then, before she could find a way out, Addie appeared.
“Ma’am.” Addie touched the woman’s arm. “It’s okay. Dr. Carlisle gave her best, and your daughter’s out of the woods. She is going to be ok.”
Addie was a natural with her. Calm, reassuring, beautiful.
The woman sniffled, looking between them both. “Thank you,” she whispered again, stepping back from Giselle, her eyes still wet with tears.
Addie gave her a soft smile. “Go get some rest. We’ll update you soon.”
The woman nodded, her expression filled with gratitude, before walking away.
Once the woman was gone, Giselle released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She turned to Addie, the words ready on her tongue.
“That was uncalled for.”
Addie’s lips twitched into a smile. “I didn’t know hugs could be such a problem.”
Giselle narrowed her eyes, irritated by the humor in Addie’s voice. “This isn’t the time for jokes.”
Addie shrugged, her eyes looking unsure for once and Giselle felt mean. “You could’ve said something nice, you know.”
“I’m not here to offer comfort. I’m here to save lives,” Giselle said sharply.
Addie raised an eyebrow. “Well, you might want to work on your people skills.”
Giselle’s face twisted. “Thanks for the advice.”
Before Addie could respond, Giselle turned on her heel and walked away, leaving no room for further conversation.