21. Giselle
GISELLE
G iselle swallowed, staring at her parents in front of her.
Her mom wore a tailored navy blazer over perfectly pressed slacks. Her blue eyes, like Giselle’s, glinted beautifully, blending perfectly with her low-cut blonde hair.
Her dad was dressed in a plain white shirt and black pants, but the smile he wore didn’t reach his eyes.
“Giselle,” her mom said.
“Hi,” Giselle replied, trying to mask her shock. “How did you find me?”
Her mom rolled her eyes. “What a way to welcome your parents. ”
Giselle sighed. “How did you know where I live?”
Her dad chuckled. “I’m Dr. Nova, honey. You didn’t think I could call in a few favors to find out my own daughter’s address?”
“Even here in Phoenix Ridge?” Giselle asked, shocked.
“If there’s a hospital, I’m pretty sure they’ve heard of me.”
Giselle’s shoulders sagged.
“Would you like to welcome us in now?” her mom added. “Or would you rather have your parents stand outside like tourists?”
She stepped aside, allowing them in.
They entered stiffly, glancing around with barely concealed judgment. Giselle followed them into the living room. She felt like a deer in headlights.
“Your place is…interesting,” Mom said, surveying the room with a critical eye.
“Thanks,” Giselle replied, unable to keep the edge from her voice.
She heard footsteps behind her. She turned to find Addie walking into the living room with wide eyes. Giselle could feel the questions radiating off of her .
“Dad, Mom,” Giselle began. “I want you to meet?—”
“You like these bold colors?” Her dad crossed his arms, his gaze settling on the décor.
Giselle shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t realize you were an interior designer.”
Her dad touched the walls, looking at the space. “Looks a bit empty, doesn’t it? I expected more from you.”
Giselle clenched her jaw, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. “I like it this way.”
Mom turned her attention to Giselle. “If you’d answered our calls, we wouldn’t have come unannounced,” she said sharply.
“I’ve been busy,” Giselle shot back, frustration creeping into her voice. “I can’t always be available.”
“Busy with what exactly? This?” Her dad motioned around the room.
Giselle stole another glance at Addie. Addie’s presence brought her some comfort. But her parents barely acknowledged Addie’s existence. Their focus remained solely on Giselle.
“What are you doing with your life now?” Mom asked, crossing her arms .
“Why do you care?” Giselle replied, her temper flaring.
Mom’s eyes narrowed. “Of course we care; you’re our daughter. You’ve changed so much since we last saw you.”
“Changed?” Giselle shot back, unable to hide the hurt in her voice. “Maybe I’ve just grown up.”
Her dad leaned forward slightly. “Are you really happy here? This place seems…off. Like you’re trying to prove something.”
Giselle clenched her fists at her sides. “What’s wrong with trying to be happy?”
“Nothing, unless it’s a facade,” Mom replied, her tone condescending.
Giselle’s heart raced with the familiar pressure of their judgment. “It’s not a facade. I’m doing well at work. I’m happy.”
“Happy? With the way you’ve chosen to live?” Her dad asked, tilting his head. “Your career, your life choices…you need to explain yourself.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“Just tell us if you’re content with this,” Mom pressed.
“Of course I’m content!” Giselle snapped, her voice rising .
Addie shifted slightly, and Giselle felt a pang of protectiveness toward her. She didn’t deserve to be pulled into this.
“Would you two just stop for a minute?” Giselle said. Her voice was a tad louder than she’d intended, but she wasn’t sorry.
Her parents turned to face her. Giselle turned slightly to Addie. “This is Adrienne Wolfe, my friend.”
Addie smiled. “Hi, nice to meet you.”
Giselle’s parents nodded.
“Just a friend?” her dad asked, his eyebrow arched.
“Why does it matter?” Giselle shot back. “I invited her here.”
“You invite friends over for dinner, Giselle,” Mom said, her voice dripping with thinly veiled judgment. “Not for whatever this is.”
Giselle imagined they both smelled like sex.
Giselle stood her ground. “This is my life. You don’t get to dictate who’s in it.”
“So, Giselle,” Mom said. “So it’s another relationship again?”
Giselle stiffened, stunned. “How can you even bring that up? ”
“Nicole wasn’t a good match for you,” her dad added. “You were meant for better things than that relationship.”
Giselle clenched her fists, annoyance bubbling up. “Dad!”
“What?”
“Still, it’s hard not to wonder,” Mom mused. “Since then, you’ve only been involved in temporary relationships. What does that say about you?”
Addie shifted in her seat, discomfort radiating off her. Giselle glanced at her, feeling a wave of guilt. This was supposed to be a pleasant visit. Instead, it was a minefield.
“Adrienne seems nice,” Mom offered, glancing at Addie. “But it’s important to consider the longevity of your relationships. Temporary flings can become a pattern. They make you look flighty and afraid of commitment.”
“Do you really want to keep repeating the past?” her dad added. “You deserve someone stable.”
Giselle took a deep breath. “You haven’t even asked what I want.”
“What you want?” Mom questioned. “ Last I checked, you pick partners who have no chance at being good enough for you.”
Giselle glanced in Addie’s direction, but she was glancing at her watch.
“Would you like some coffee?” Giselle offered, desperate for a distraction.
“Coffee?” Mom’s brow furrowed. “That’s bad for your health. You know that.”
“Just one cup won’t hurt,” Giselle said quickly, trying to lighten the mood.
Her father shook his head. “Caffeine is linked to anxiety and insomnia. You’re a surgeon, Giselle. You know better.”
Giselle fought the urge to roll her eyes. “It’s just coffee, not a death sentence.”
“Your health is a priority,” Mom interjected. “We only want what’s best for you.”
“I’m doing just fine,” Giselle snapped. “And I can make my own choices.”
“Your choices impact your future,” her dad said. “You’ve lost sight of that.”
Addie watched the exchange, her expression tense. Giselle hated that she had to witness this.
“Do you know what coffee does to your body?” Mom continued, unrelenting. “It raises your heart rate. It dehydrates you. You should be setting a better example, especially now that you have a friend here.”
She said “friend” with a suggestive drawl.
Addie cleared her throat, trying to ease the tension. “I drink coffee sometimes. It can be nice.”
Mom turned her gaze sharply to Addie. “That’s a poor choice. If you’re a friend of Giselle’s, you should be encouraging her to live healthily.”
Giselle noticed Addie tense, her shoulders stiffening. She wanted to apologize and take Addie away from this relentless scrutiny.
“Why can’t you just be supportive?” Giselle asked, desperation creeping into her tone.
Mom glanced at Addie, then back to Giselle. “We are supportive, Giselle. But we want you to succeed.”
“Success doesn’t look the same for everyone,” Addie chimed in softly. “Giselle is thriving in her way.”
Giselle caught Addie’s eye. There was a hint of admiration there that fueled her determination .
“See?” Giselle pointed at Addie. “Not everyone shares your views. We’re all different.”
“Different doesn’t mean better,” her dad replied.
Giselle took a breath, biting back frustration. “You’re not listening. You want to mold me into someone I’m not.”
“Maybe we’re trying to help you avoid pain,” Mom countered.
“Pain? Is that what you think this is?” Giselle snapped. “I’m trying to find my way, not live in your shadow.”
A heavy silence fell over the room. Giselle looked at Addie, whose expression had grown troubled.
“Can we change the subject?” Addie finally asked.
Mom regarded Addie with suspicion. “What else is there to talk about?”
Giselle sighed. “I’ll get you two some tea.”
Giselle slipped into the kitchen, the hum of voices following her. She filled a kettle with water and set it on the stove. The clang of pots and pans echoed as she tried to get her temper under control .
Her hands moved carefully as she selected a box of herbal tea. She wanted everything to be perfect.
As she waited for the kettle to boil, she strained to hear the conversation. Her parents’ voices were steady. Addie’s voice chimed in, light and warm. It felt different from the chill that surrounded her parents.
She wondered what they were talking about. The kettle whistled, pulling her back to the kitchen.
Giselle poured the boiling water into the teapot and then added the tea bags. She hoped the warmth of the tea would ease the atmosphere when she returned.
When she finished, she took a deep breath and walked back to the living room. Her parents sat stiffly on the couch, their eyes fixed on Addie.
Addie cleared her throat. “Mrs. Carlisle, I?—”
“Carlisle?” Giselle’s mom interrupted. “I’m Dr. Nova!”
Giselle sighed.
“Giselle,” her dad said. “You’re using a different last name?”
Addie frowned, and Giselle’s heart raced. She hadn’t thought about her name in this context. It had been her choice to distance herself, and it had always felt more like freedom than rebellion.
“It’s my choice,” Giselle said.
“It seems childish.” Her dad frowned. “You’re still family.”
Addie shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her hands tightening in her lap. Giselle’s chest constricted. She wanted to defend herself. Instead, she glanced at Addie, her expression now unreadable.
“Maybe I should be on my way,” Addie said softly. “I have to pick up Sophie soon.”
Giselle’s stomach dropped. She wanted to say something to hold Addie back, but the words caught in her throat.
“I’m sorry, Addie,” Giselle started, stepping forward. “I didn’t mean for?—”
“It’s fine,” Addie interrupted, her smile strained. “I just need to get Sophie from school. It’s almost two.”
Giselle’s heart sank. “You don’t have to leave yet. We can talk about this.”
Addie stood, her body tense. “No, really. It’s okay. My ride is already pulling up. ”
Giselle followed her to the door. “Addie, please wait.”
“Giselle. I’ll see you later.”
Addie opened the door, her smile faltering. The sun poured in, casting a warm glow on her face. Giselle wanted to reach out and pull her back in, but she could see the resolve in Addie’s eyes.
“Take care of yourself, okay?” Addie said.
“I will. Just…please don’t let them get to you.”
Addie hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “I’ll be fine. I’ll text you later.”
With that, she stepped outside. Giselle watched as Addie walked to the waiting car.
As she watched it drive away, she felt a sense of loss.
She’d wanted this to be a good day. The second she stepped back into the living room, the last of Addie’s warmth faded, leaving her completely isolated with her parents.
“She seems nice ,” Mom offered, but Giselle could hear the underlying skepticism in her tone.
“Stop,” Giselle said, frustration bubbling over. “Just stop. ”
“What are you afraid of?” her dad asked, crossing her arms.
“Afraid?” Giselle echoed, incredulous. “I’m not afraid. I’m trying to live my life and be happy.”
“There you go with your talk of happiness again,” her dad replied, his tone clipped. “You need stability.”
“Stability doesn’t mean sacrificing who I am,” Giselle retorted.
“Then why do you hide behind a different name?” Mom pressed.
“I’m not hiding anything,” Giselle shot back. “It’s my choice, and you need to respect that.”
Mom sighed, her demeanor softening slightly. “We only want what’s best for you.”
Giselle shook her head. “What’s best for me is to be myself. I can’t keep living in your shadow.”
Giselle could feel the walls closing in. She wanted to fight back, but felt exhausted. She’d been fighting for so long.
“We’re just concerned,” her dad said finally, his tone more subdued.
“I don’t need your concern,” Giselle said. “I need your support. ”
Her parents remained silent. Giselle turned and headed back to the kitchen, needing to escape. She poured herself a cup of tea, letting the warmth seep into her hands.
She would not be defined by their expectations. She’d find her own path, with or without their approval.
Giselle stared at her phone screen, her finger hovering over Addie’s name. She dialed, holding her breath as the line rang.
No answer.
Her stomach tightened and she set the phone down, forcing herself to stay calm. She couldn’t blame Addie. She could only blame the situation she’d let unfold.
She drained her cup of tea in one gulp, the bitter taste grounding her. She set the empty cup in the sink with a slight clink. It felt too quiet now that Addie was gone.
Taking a deep breath, she turned back toward the living room where her parents waited. She could hear their low voices, probably discussing her like they always did. She straightened her shoulders, ready to go back in and face them.
She wasn’t letting them win this time. She wouldn’t let them keep her chained to their ideals or keep her from being happy. And Addie…Addie made her happy.
Giselle walked back into the room, resolved. She was certain of one thing—she loved Addie.