7. Giselle
GISELLE
G iselle sat at her desk in the early morning light, the case file spread open in front of her. The room had the kind of stillness she preferred when preparing for surgery.
She reviewed the details, tracing her finger across the page. The patient, a five-year-old girl with a rare and complicated heart defect, needed immediate intervention. The surgery was risky, but it wasn’t anything she hadn’t handled before.
She flipped through the pages, making mental notes on the procedure. The diagrams and scan images of the girl’s heartand the written recommendations from the cardiologists didn’t faze her. It was just another case to solve, another life to save.
But even as she focused on the case, her mind drifted. Not far—just down the hall to Addie Wolfe.
Addie had been on her mind more than she wanted to admit. It wasn’t just her skill in the OR, though that was undeniable. It was the way Addie looked at her, the way her eyes always seemed to linger a second longer than necessary.
Giselle liked it.
She loved Addie’s curiosity and her frequent, almost furtive glances. It made her feel noticed, but not in the way her reputation meant. This was different. She was used to people looking at her with awe or respect—never this. Never more focused on her as a person than a surgeon.
She leaned back in her chair, letting out her breath. This wasn’t something she should be thinking about. There was no room for it, not here, not now. She didn’t have time for distractions, especially ones that came with feelings she wasn’t prepared to deal with.
Giselle shook her head, trying to refocus on the case before her. She couldn’t let this turn into something more. It was nothing, just admiration for a colleague. That was it. Addie was good at her job, and maybe she was a bit softer than Giselle preferred, but that didn’t mean anything.
She forced herself to look back down at the file. The heart defect needed her full attention, and she wouldn’t let her thoughts wander again. But it was harder than she expected.
Her phone buzzed on the desk, pulling her attention away from the file. It was a message from the OR team, letting her know the patient had been prepped for surgery. She stared at her phone, then back at the files. Just a second more and she’d be ready to join them in the prep room.
There was a knock on the door. Giselle frowned and looked up. “Who’s there?”
“Dr. Wolfe.”
Giselle swallowed. “Err…come in.”
Giselle looked up from the file when Addie walked into the room.
She gave her a brief nod and then turned her attention back to the case notes.
The last thing she needed was to get distracted.
But as Addie settled next to her, flipping through her copy of the patient’s file, Giselle loved how effortlessly Addie moved through her work.
They both stood side by side, going through the detailed notes on the girl’s heart defect. Giselle focused on the specifics—the abnormal placement of the arteries, the poor blood flow—but part of her attention kept drifting to Addie.
Giselle wanted to watch her, to see more of how Addie interacted with the world. And then, just for a brief moment, she wanted to kiss her.
The thought came out of nowhere, and Giselle’s pulse quickened. She forced herself to focus on the file again, pushing the thought away. This wasn’t the time for distractions.
“Looks like the surgery’s going to take a few hours,” Addie said as she traced a diagram with her finger. “We’ll need to be careful around the aorta. One wrong move and it could get tricky.”
Giselle nodded, trying to keep her mind on the task at hand. “We’ll go slow. Precision is key here.”
Addie glanced at her, and for a second, Giselle felt that strange pull again. She swallowed and turned back to the file, mentally bracing herself. She couldn’t afford to let her mind wander.
Once they’d reviewed everything, they both stepped out to get ready for the surgery. As they walked toward the OR, Giselle noticed the family waiting near the entrance, anxious and fidgeting. It was always the same—parents with wide, frightened eyes clinging to hope and waiting for answers.
Before Giselle could say anything, Addie walked over to them. Giselle watched as she made eye contact with the mother. Addie’s calm demeanor seemed to have an immediate effect. The parents stopped fidgeting, their shoulders relaxing slightly as Addie spoke to them in soft, measured tones.
“The surgery is delicate, but we’ve got a solid plan,” Addie said. “Dr. Carlisle and I will be doing everything we can to ensure a successful outcome.”
The mother nodded, her eyes welling up. “Thank you. She’s…she’s our whole world. ”
Addie reached out, resting a hand on the mother’s arm. “She’s in good hands. We’ve been over the procedure, and we’re prepared. I promise we’ll take care of her.”
Giselle stood a few feet away, observing the interaction. Every bit of it felt unnecessary.
Once the family was reassured—or at least when Addie felt like they were—she walked ahead of Giselle into the prep area. Giselle waited for a few more breaths before joining Addie in the locker room.
Sure enough, Addie was standing by the lockers, pulling her hair into a neat bun.
Addie looked over as soon as she entered, and for a brief moment, their eyes met. Giselle’s stomach did something unfamiliar. It didn’t help when Addie pushed her lips into a smile.
“Hey,” Addie said.
“Hey,” Giselle replied. She passed rows of gray lockers, some with personal items visible through cracked doors—shoes, folded scrubs, and jackets. A few lockers were slightly ajar, revealing a mix of belongings, while a pair of surgical gloves lay forgotten on the bench nearby .
Giselle didn’t stop until she was at the locker near the far end with a nameplate that read Dr. Carlisle in bold black letters. She pulled open the door, the metal squeaking slightly, and set her bag inside, next to neatly stacked scrubs.
As they prepped in silence, Giselle stole a few glances at Addie from the corner of her eye. There it was again—that fluttering in her belly. It wasn’t annoyance, though she wished it was just that.
Once they were both suited up, and scrubbed in, they moved into the OR.
The girl was already on the table and prepped for surgery.
The monitors beeped steadily in the background, and the room was filled with the familiar sounds of an operating room.
It was comforting, in a way. Here, there was no room for anything but focus.
Giselle stepped up to the table, reviewing the girl’s vitals on the screen. Addie joined her, standing across the table, her eyes already on the patient. Giselle cleared her throat, trying to push aside whatever thoughts had been distracting her.
“Everything looks stable,” Giselle said, her tone all business now. “We should be able to proceed without any complications.”
Addie nodded. “It’s a tricky procedure, but I think we’ve got it under control.”
Giselle appreciated that about Addie, even though she wouldn’t say it out loud. Once they were in the OR, all the warmth and softness she seemed to carry with her outside vanished. Here, she was steady, competent, and focused.
The girl’s heart was fragile, the delicate tissue exposed under the harsh lights of the operating room.
“Careful with the clamp,” Addie said, her eyes focused on the girl’s chest.
Now and then, Addie looked up at her, and each time, Giselle felt a subtle pull in her gaze.
“Forceps,” Giselle said, her hand outstretched. The nurse handed it over immediately.
Addie worked beside her, adjusting the sutures and monitoring the girl’s vitals.
The surgery required delicate maneuvering.
But they were in sync, as they had been before.
Giselle was aware of every movement Addie made, every slight adjustment.
It was comforting, even if she wouldn’t admit it out loud.
“BP’s holding steady,” the anesthesiologist said from the head of the table.
Giselle looked up at the monitor, then back down at the girl’s heart. “Good. We’re almost through the tricky part.”
The hours passed in a blur of concentration. Together, they repaired the defect, working with the precision and care the case demanded. By the time they were done, the girl’s heart was beating steadily again.
As the team closed up, Giselle stepped back, letting the others finish the procedure. She caught a glimpse of Addie, still focused, her hands moving carefully as she sutured the incision.
For a moment, she considered saying something more than her usual post-surgery remarks. But instead, she just nodded once. Whatever this was—whatever thoughts she had about Addie—it didn’t matter. Not here. Not now.
Once the surgery was complete, they left the OR. As they stepped into the hallway, Giselle overheard Addie talking to the family again. She stood a little off to the side, watching as Addie explained the procedure in simple terms, breaking down the medical jargon so the parents could understand.
“The surgery went well,” Addie said, keeping her voice low and calm. “She’s stable now, and we’ll be monitoring her closely over the next few days. But everything looks good so far.”
The relief on the parents’ faces was instant. The mother wiped away tears while the father nodded, his hand gripping his wife’s arm tightly.
“Thank you, Dr. Wolfe,” the father said.
Addie smiled, offering them a gentle nod. “We’re happy with the results. She’s strong.”
Giselle stayed where she was, watching the scene unfold.
She begrudgingly admired how effortlessly Addie could comfort themandhow natural it was for her to step into that role.
It wasn’t something Giselle could do. She was good at saving lives, but the emotional side of things wasn’t her strength.
After Addie finished up with the family, she walked over to Giselle. They stood in silence for a moment.
“You handled the surgery well,” Giselle said.
“Thank you,” Addie replied, her gaze holding Giselle’s. Her hazel eyes were a curious mix of green and gold up close.
Giselle felt that pull againbutshoved it aside, reminding herself that this was work. Emotional connections weren’t necessary, not here. They had a job to do, and they’d done it well.
Without another word, Giselle nodded and walked down the hall, already pushing thoughts of Addie out of her mind. It was almost impossible, especially with Addie falling in step with her.
Shit.