Atlas stares at his tightly clasped hands as he waits. Finally, a nurse emerges from the operation room and Atlas swiftly climbs to his feet. Atlas feels the blood drain away from his face at seeing her grave expression. The birthing nurse dejectedly says, “I’m sorry, sir. But the male twin did not survive the birth.”

Atlas rises to his feet and says, “What about the other baby and my wife, how are they doing?!”

“Your wife is currently being operated on, she lost a lot of blood. As for your baby girl, she is perfectly healthy and is currently being cleaned. You can see her in a few moments, sir,” the nurse said.

Atlas lets out a sigh of relief and of sadness. He had wanted both babies to survive, but he had long since resigned himself to the fact that only one of them would survive. But as long as Giselle and one of the babies were fine, he would mourn the loss of the male twin in private. He needed to be strong, his wife needed him now more than ever.

Atlas waits impatiently until a nurse says, “Sir, you can see your daughter now.” Atlas hastily follows the nurse who leads him to a secluded room that only houses a single baby. The baby girl is sound asleep having been already feed bottle milk. A drop of milk can be seen dripping down the side of her mouth.

The nurse carefully grabs the sleeping baby causing the baby to let out a gentle sound of complaint. The nurse carefully places the baby girl in Atlas’s arms. The baby lets out a cry of discomfort causing Atlas to hastily take a seat in the rocking chair. The rocking motion causes the baby to cease her cries and fall asleep.

Atlas smiles gently at the tiny face that seems to resemble his. A dark fuzzy wad of hair can be seen on her head as a tiny pink bow has been clipped into her hair. Atlas chuckles at the sight and loosens the pink bow from her hair. The baby doesn’t stir as Atlas places the tiny pink bow in his suit pocket to remind him of her.

Placing a kiss on the baby girl’s red face, Atlas hands his child back to the nurse. Another nurse with a clipboard in hand enters the nursery and says, “Mr. Starr, did you and your wife already pick a name for your daughter?”

“Yes, Victoria Starr,” Atlas firmly replied.

“Thank you,” the nurse replied as she writes the name on her clipboard before turning to walk away.

“Excuse, but when can I see my wife?” Atlas asked the retreating nurse.

“In a bit, sir,” the nurse replied before going on her way.

Atlas frowns in disappointment as the nursery nurse coughs pointedly hinting to him that it was time to leave the nursey. Atlas quietly returns to the waiting area and takes a seat. Atlas reaches into his suit jacket and is surprised to find a missing call and voicemail. Atlas carefully brings the phone to his ear and listens. His brows furrow at the message and swiftly returns the call. The phone rings and rings, but the call goes to voicemail. Atlas hangs up the phone as a look of frustration appears on his face.

A familiar nurse voice interrupts Atlas thought, “Sir, your wife is ready to see you now.”

Atlas glances up with relief and strides towards his wife’s room. Atlas stiffens in surprise and comes to a complete abrupt halt in the doorway. Giselle weeps into the chest of a familiar figure, who has his arms tightly wrapped around her as he rests his head on Giselle’s head. It was a private moment that hurt to the very core. Atlas turns around before the two notice him and retreats. A pain crackles in his chest so ferociously that for a moment, he feels his heart is breaking in two.

*

Giselle finishes crying and embarrassingly pulls away. Wryly smiling, Giselle says, “Oh, no I got all your suit wet with mucus.”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind,” the dark-haired man said as he reached for tissues with his Italian leather gloved hands.

Giselle glances around and says, “Where’s Atlas?”

The dark-haired man says, “I’m not sure, let me call him.” The phone rings and rings, but Atlas does not answer.

Giselle clutches her sheets as the dark-haired man places a comforting hand over her hands. “I’m sure, he’s just busy and forgot. Let me go look for him,” the dark-haired man said.

A crisp sound startles them as Giselle moves away guiltily and the dark-haired man subtly pulls his hand from the bed sheet. Atlas’s face is emotionless considering the circumstances. No joy nor sadness could be seen on his face as hope in Giselle’s chest slowly dies.

“How are you feeling?” Atlas aloofly asked.

Giselle bites her lip, before stiffly barking, “My son is dead. How should I be feeling?!”

Atlas doesn’t react at the bitter words and says, “Get some rest,” before turning around and walking out the door.

Giselle smiles bitterly to herself as the figure of Atlas disappears through the doorway. “I choose wrongly,” Giselle berates to herself and says, “Could you leave for a bit, I’m a bit tired. I just want to be left alone.”

“Of course, if you need anything just call,” the dark-haired man said and after a moment’s hesitation, he gently leans down to place a tender kiss on her forehead, before striding away.

More tears slip down her face as Giselle cries softly to herself. Her son was gone, but he would live. But the person who was supposed to be at her side right now and console her wasn’t with her. Why? Didn’t he love her enough? Of course, not, his work/the agency would always be more important. The tears dry on Giselle’s face at the harsh realization, that it would always be like this. And if so, did she or could she stand to live like this for the rest of her life? With the question heavy and unanswered, Giselle closes her eyes and tries to sleep, not yet ready to face the music and make a choice.