27. Giselle
GISELLE
“ C harge to fifty,” Giselle said, forcing her voice to stay even.
The nurse nodded as she positioned the paddles, her movements sharp and efficient. Giselle adjusted her stance, keeping her eyes on the heart monitor. It was weak and erratic. Another tech checked the readings, and her face was pale.
“Ready,” the nurse said.
“Clear.” Giselle pressed the paddles to Sophie’s small chest, and the shock jolted through her tiny body, lifting her slightly off the table. They watched the monitor, waiting for a response.
A faint blip appeared, small but there .
“We’re not losing her,” Giselle muttered, her hands gripping the paddles. “Charge again. This time to seventy-five.”
The nurse set the charge, her eyes flicking between her and the monitor. She handed her the paddles, the desperate energy palpable between them.
“Clear.”
The second shock hit, and Sophie’s body arched. Giselle’s gaze snapped to the monitor, watching as the line steadied, the small pulses growing stronger. A steady beat appeared, faint but holding.
“Heart rate stabilizing,” the tech reported, her voice calm, but Giselle could see the relief in her face.
She exhaled, leaning in to check the incision, her fingers steady as she adjusted the clamp, easing the pressure around the vessel. Sophie’s heart beat stronger, each pulse echoing in the room, a steady rhythm that had been painfully absent before.
“Good. Let’s keep the drain steady,” she said, her focus locked on Sophie. She glanced at the nurse. “Prep another suture here. We’re going to close up soon.”
The nurse moved quickly as Giselle worked, her hands precise and her mind clear. The bleeding was under control, each step leading them closer to the end. She adjusted her grip, each motion fueled by the relief that surged through her.
“Almost there,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. She tightened the last suture, sealing the incision and securing Sophie’s heart. The monitor held, each steady blip a promise she hadn’t let herself believe until now.
Giselle took a long breath, but the work wasn’t done.
Her hands moved, finishing the final closures with exacting care.
The steady hum of the monitor continued, each heartbeat bringing a wash of relief over the team.
She didn’t let herself look up at the gallery.
She didn’t want to see the worry she knew was etched into Addie’s face.
“Watch her vitals. Keep the suction ready,” Giselle said as calmly as possible. “Sutures in place. Confirm stabilization.”
The tech nodded, adjusting the machine as the readings settled. A steady, strong line now graced the screen. Sophie’s pulse was weak but regular, each blip on the monitor echoing around the room .
The nurse checked the final blood levels, giving her a nod that was just short of a grin. Giselle returned a small nod, but she allowed herself a moment to take it in. Sophie was holding on.
“Ok, I’m happy. I’m just going to redo this repair then close,” she said, keeping the focus on the last steps. Her team moved quickly, ready to finish what they’d begun.
Giselle’s hands moved through the final sutures, each stitch careful, her gaze intent. She could still hear Addie’s voice echoing in her mind, accusing and sharp, the words pressing against her, cutting through her earlier resolve. But as she looked at Sophie, her mind cleared.
She’d done what she had to. She’d stayed with Sophie through each complication, and she hadn’t wavered.
The nurse leaned in, confirming the last suture was set. Giselle nodded, finally allowing herself to breathe fully.
“She’s stable,” she said, her voice almost just a whisper.
Giselle carefully placed the final suture, ensuring each stitch was secure.
Her hands moved with a rhythm she barely thought about anymore, though every part of her still felt tense.
She cut the last thread, her gaze lingering on Sophie’s chest rising and falling steadily with each breath.
The monitor beeped, soft and even. Sophie was stable.
“Vitals?” Giselle asked.
“Normalizing,” the tech confirmed with a smile.
Giselle looked down at Sophie, studying the pale face that had held everyone’s attention.
Without thinking, she leaned in and gently pressed a quick, almost instinctive kiss to Sophie’s forehead.
The gesture felt unfamiliar yet natural, and it surprised her, a warmth spreading through her chest as she straightened.
When she turned around, her eyes met Addie’s through the glass in the viewing room. Addie’s expression was a mix of disbelief and relief.
Her gaze softened, but there was a distance there, a guarded look that hadn’t been there before. It held everything she’d shouted earlier.
Giselle swallowed, a pang of something she couldn’t name rising within her. She handed off her tools, pulled off her gloves, and left the OR without another glance. She couldn’t stay, not with Addie watching, not with every word she’d said still echoing in her mind.
The prep area sat just outside the OR, a place she usually walked through without a thought. Today, it felt like a lifeline. She slipped into the room and closed the door behind her. Her hands were still shaking as she leaned against the counter and pressed her palms flat against it.
For the first time, she let herself feel. She thought of Sophie, of the moments she’d been on the edge of losing her, of how her heart had clenched each time Sophie’s vitals had faltered.
And she thought of Addie, her words laced with pain and accusation, and Giselle finally understood. Addie had wanted her to understand this all along—this warmth, this love, the relief when someone you cared about made it through.
Giselle closed her eyes, thinking of all the other families, of the parents she’d kept at arm’s length, the ones who’d looked at her with questions in their eyes, desperate for reassurance she never gave.
She’d been cold, detached, rigid—just like her parents had taught her to be.
Just like her parents had been with her.
The realization hit her hard. She reached for the ties of her surgical gown, pulling it off in one swift motion.
She peeled away her cap and her mask, letting them drop onto the tray.
She took a long breath, headed to the sink, and turned on the cold water, splashing it over her face, letting it ground her.
Sophie had survived. For that, she was grateful.
But now, with the OR behind her and everything laid bare, she wondered if she’d lost Addie. Her pulse quickened at the thought, her mind racing over every mistake, every time she’d pushed Addie away. She braced herself against the sink, staring into the drain.
The door opened and Josephine walked in, her gaze softened by the hint of relief in her eyes. She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around Giselle in a brief but firm hug.
“Good work,” she said, pulling back just enough to study Giselle’s face. “Sophie is stable. You saved her.”
Giselle nodded. “Thank you. ”
Josephine’s hand rested on her shoulder. “Your parents came by earlier.”
Giselle’s muscles tensed and she took a step back. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“I know,” Josephine replied. “They spoke to me. I explained how things were, and they agreed to wait until you were ready. They respect your space, for now.”
Giselle looked away, a surge of relief softening her stance. “You talked to them?”
“Yes,” Josephine said. “They understand more than you might think. But it’s your call if you want to see them.”
Giselle nodded, glancing back at Josephine. “Thank you for that.” The words barely scratched the surface, but she knew Josephine understood.
Josephine’s eyes held hers for a moment, and then she turned toward the door. Giselle watched her leave, a quiet thought slipping out before she could stop it.
“Josephine, do you think Addie can still love me?”
Josephine stopped, turning back with a raised brow. “Pardon?”
Giselle gave a short, bitter laugh. “Drop the act. You know we’ve been seeing each other.”
A faint smile crossed Josephine’s face. “I’d hoped.” She let the words hang between them, a subtle warmth softening her usual formality. “Addie’s a driven woman. And emotional. If she loves you, Giselle, it will take more than this to change that.”
Giselle’s shoulders relaxed, her gaze settling on Josephine with gratitude she didn’t try to hide. “Thank you. For everything.”
Josephine gave a small nod, her face softening just enough to show her approval, then left without another word.