CHAPTER 8
RILA
The dinner at the Beckers’ house provided a distraction. She managed not to think about Kieran throughout Jessie's birthday celebration and her friend didn't bring it up either.
They had this silent agreement not to force each other to talk about sensitive topics — no matter how curious the other was —, they just made their support clear and waited until the issue came to the surface.
In Rila's case, it emerged the next day while Jessie, Blake and her were getting coffee from the garden cart — which was actually a kiosk, but they insisted on calling it a cart.
The garden was perfectly decorated with several trees — most with reddish leaves due to autumn —, paved paths among the well-trimmed grass, some wooden benches, and iron tables and chairs.
However, the incredible part was the two suspended corridors that cut right above, one on each side of the garden, connecting two wings of the hospital.
It was really cool to cross the building through them, it had quite a view. Much better than doing it from the inside, facing endless white and lit corridors.
— Like I told you that day on the roof, you don't have to forgive him if you don't want to — the blond said — But maybe you can get some closure if you listen to what he has to say.
— She's right about putting an end to it — the other friend agreed before taking a bite of her berry donuts.
Even with a temperature of ten degrees, they were sitting around one of the small round iron tables positioned throughout the garden. The day was a bit cloudy, but without drafts that could make them shiver.
This place was opposite to the cafeteria, much further from the emergency room, but the coffee there was way better, so it was worth the walk.
It didn't hold a candle to the Brazilian coffee that Jessica kept hidden in the gynecology break room, but they didn't use it often since it wasn't something easy to get. It was a coffee for special occasions.
— And he seems to be sorry, Rila. Would it be so bad to give a second chance? — Blake continued, making apparent her weakness for romance that Rila recently discovered — Why not start over again, as he suggested?
Rila was so proud of having managed to bring the neurosurgeon to a coffee with Jessica for the first time that she didn't even care that the blonde had only accepted the invitation to find out more about her situation with Kieran.
At least something good had to come out of all this mess he brought, right?
— He hurt her, we can trust him not to do it again, of course it would be bad to give a second chance — Jessie frowned — Besides, we don't even know what really happened, he could be a cheater.
Of course she wouldn't think twice about closing the door in Kieran's face.
Her friend had her heart trapped behind a wall she built herself, something that Rila always warned her about, but now was a little jealous of.
It would be so much easier to have a fortress like hers, preventing Kieran from entering and messing everything up again.
However, she didn't have a fortress, but rather a half-open door that she struggled to close while the player kept one foot in the crack to stop it.
— Oh my God, was he violent with you? — the neurosurgeon widened her eyes in her direction, the golden skin of her face turning pale.
— No — she strongly denied — Kieran is not that kind of person. He's infuriatingly calm, unbearably controlled, and ridiculously regardful.
The two of them looked at her with raised eyebrows, surprised by the mix of insults and compliments.
— I googled him and I've gotta say, all those muscles and the always serious face give off the feeling of someone who will destroy your sanity. And your vagina — Blake twisted the coffee cup between her hands.
— Oh, he did exactly that to me — Rila exhaled a laugh and took a sip of her drink before continuing — Kieran was a jerk, but I'm not gonna lie and say the sex wasn't out of this world.
God, the sex, how she missed that with him. It was hot, explosive, and wild, like it had never been with anyone else. The way he knew her body, how he could touch the right places at the right time and how he managed to leave her completely breathless and speechless afterward. It was intoxicating.
With that line of hers, the three started a conversation about the best and worst sexual experiences they had.
Rila couldn't help but be surprised that Blake shared something intimate — even if it was in a very superficial way — over that coffee, considering it was the first non-professional contact between her and Jessie.
This was a big step for the blonde and it only made the feeling of triumph increase in her chest.
She was happy to see her two friends getting along, as she always thought they would.
Rila's thought floated to Kieran for a few moments, but this time to consider in the slightest, just a little bit, whether she should listen to him. Maybe she really needed this to move on with her life. A life without him haunting her memories.
The days following their conversation in the trauma room were free of any physical appearances from him, but Kieran continued to be in her thoughts.
He also kept up with the milkshakes and Rila continued to hand them out to the ER staff, each day someone was randomly given a strawberry milkshake. That was until Wednesday, when she needed the dessert to stay sane.
It was the penultimate day of the month, which meant she could no longer postpone dinner at her parents’ house. She would leave it until the last day, but tomorrow would be Halloween and sitting at a table with her mother was already too scary.
The house Rila grew up in was in one of Boston's most upscale neighborhoods, full of monstrous mansions hidden behind iron gates, and her parent's house wasn't different.
With a luxurious French design, the three-story building was full of elegant windows, arches, and pilasters and a garden that was always immaculate.
Once past the guardhouse, she drove the short distance to the entrance and parked at the end of the tiled driveway. Normally, someone would come and store the vehicle, but the whole house already knew that it wasn't worth taking the car since Rila didn't spend more than an hour there.
Taking one last deep breath, she climbed the five large stone steps to the front porch and passed through the double door that one of the many staff members held open.
Her father was sitting in one of the cream-colored armchairs in the living room, just off the entrance hall. Like the rest of the rooms, the decoration was all in light and elegant tones, with everything perfectly thought out by a famous interior designer.
— Hi, dad.
Tristan Hill was, as always, working on something in his notebook. He wore a light blue dress shirt, dark pants perfectly cut for his body, and shiny black shoes. He had abandoned his jacket and tie, but his black hair was still neatly pulled back and his face free of beard.
— Hi, darling — he looked at her over the device — How's the hospital?
He always asked that and Rila knew it was because that was the only thing he knew was happening in her life. Not that she did much more than stay in the hospital, after all, she was a resident, she didn't have much of a choice in the matter.
— Good. Tiring. How is work?
— Good. Tiring — he repeated the words and they laughed softly — Your aunt and I are preparing your cousin to take my place in a few years.
He and Aunt Thalia took over the Hill family business after her grandfather retired when Rila was six.
Since then, her father has worked like a madman to keep everything running smoothly at the multimillion-dollar real estate company.
He guaranteed them a life full of luxury while working exhaustingly, barely having time for his own family along the way.
Rila never resented him for that, she grew up used to his absence, it was something normal for her. They had few moments to talk, but at least when they did it wasn't to argue, like her and her mother.
— Hmm, this is good, even though I think you'll go crazy when you retire — they both knew she was referring to her mother. She had this superpower of being able to drive anyone insane.
— Don't even remind me or I'll change my mind about this.
Since her father was never around, it was always Rila who was the victim of this special ability.
Fix your hair, don't sit like that or you'll wrinkle your dress, eat more slowly, don't be a child and just behave like an adult.
She grew up hearing how she should always look perfect, that it was important to know how to behave correctly in front of people, and that there were expectations placed on her because she was a Hill.
In Naomi Hill’s case, she expected Rila to find a husband from an equally influential family, deliver babies, and run the household as if they were in the eighteenth century.
Rila had no problem with anyone who wanted to do this, as long as it was their choice, not forced down their throat like her mother wanted to do.
— Rila, don't you know it's rude not to greet all the hosts before engaging in a conversation? — the voice of the woman who gave birth to her rang through the room, and the emergency doctor had to control herself not to roll her eyes.
She didn't need to get scolded again because ladies don't roll their eyes.
Yeah, well, ladies also didn't get on gurneys to perform CPR and screamed like crazy at whoever was nearby to inject a dose of adrenaline into the patient who was flatlining. Guess what she was doing a few minutes before getting there?
And, for God's sake, hosts? It was dinner in the house where she grew up.
— Hi, mom — Rila gave her a forced smile and received what her mother called a hug.