CHAPTER 6
RILA
Someone was shouting in the emergency room, the voice coming from the direction of the automatic door that led to the ambulance parking lot.
— Help! We need some help!
Rila immediately came out from behind the counter, where she was updating medical records, and ran over there with a nurse, grabbing a pair of gloves along the way.
A blonde woman stared at her with wide eyes as a man's half-awake body pressed against hers. He had blood on his chin, on his t-shirt, and his skin was as pale as a paper sheet.
— I'm Dr. Hill, tell me what happened — she spoke firmly as she wrapped an arm around the man's waist and directed them towards the nearest empty bed.
— He started vomiting blood — the words came out shakily and Rila could see that she was fighting not to panic — I just put him in the car and drove here, you have to help him.
Another nurse came over, helping position him on the bed before starting to hook him up to the monitor so they could keep track of his vitals.
— We will. Sir, can you tell me your name? — she asked as she took the stethoscope off her neck to listen to her heart and lungs.
— Ford Kent — he murmured, his eyes remaining half-open. Considering strands of gray poking through his dark brown locks and a few wrinkles on his face, she'd say he was in his fifties.
When the monitor above the head of the gurney began to glow, Rila noticed her increased heart rate and low blood pressure. He was in a hypovolemic shock due to blood loss.
— Start a liter of fluids for volume expansion — she asked the nurse and turned her attention to her patient — Any allergies?
He shook his head slightly from side to side and she continued with the questions while they put him on the IV.
Any illness? Do you use any medications every day? Is this the first time this has happened?
Most of the medical care is based on anamnesis, the clinical conversation with the patient that provides doctors, in most cases, with all the details they need to develop diagnostic hypotheses.
— Call radiology and tell them we need to do an endoscopy as soon as he stabilizes — she said to the nurse.
Based on the information he gathered, Ford was probably having a digestive hemorrhage due to a gastric ulcer that developed due to the abusive use of anti-inflammatories he had been taking for his back pain. Yes, something that was supposed to help was making him sick.
The rest of the morning was busy with an intense flow of flu and two victims of work accidents. MedHarbor was the second-largest hospital in Boston, so the emergency room was rarely empty.
Emergency medicine wasn't an easy or pretty specialty.
They dealt with everything that arrived at the hospital, from flu-like illnesses and stomach aches to heart attacks and accidents.
They were the first medical team to have contact with the patient and they were the ones who made most of the decisions, including determining the need to call other specialists.
Of course, there was always a trauma surgeon on call with them because emergency doctors were not qualified to do some invasive procedures and they received a lot of surgical cases. They dealt with the clinical part and the surgeons with the cutting and sewing part.
Surgery was the first thing Rila crossed off her list at medical school, she was too agitated to stand still for hours in an operating room.
— Rila, this was delivered to you just now — Pippa, her favorite nurse, took a brown bag with an ice cream shop logo from under the counter.
— Thanks — she frowned, finding it strange.
She had just left the cafeteria for lunch, she didn't order anything. In fact, after Friday night's drinking, she spent the weekend too sick to eat anything other than water and salad. God, she was getting old.
Rila opened the package, finding a huge glass of strawberry milkshake inside. She didn't know why Jessie had ordered it, but she loved her for it. This Monday was chaotic enough to deserve one of these.
— My God, this is the best milkshake I've ever had — she moaned after the first sip of the drink.
She had never tried anything like this, even the texture was completely different from the fast food she used to eat.
— So, who wants to talk to you and what does this symbol mean? — Pippa pointed to the cup she was holding, and Rila was forced to turn it in her hand to see what she was talking about.
Her jaw clenched the instant the writing entered her vision field. Right there was the Japanese symbol for flower, which also served as her name, Hana, and a “can we talk?” with a number below. Annoying idiot who knew her favorite drink and thought he could use it to convince Rila to talk.
— Ugh, is just an asshole with a good taste for ice cream — she rolled her eyes while answering the nurse — Can you hand me a marker, please?
She did as asked, and Rila didn't take long to scribble the writings, hiding them in black ink.
— There, much better — she smiled triumphantly and handed the pen back to a Pippa with an inquisitively raised eyebrow and dark eyes full of curiosity — Don't even ask, he's not worth our time.
On Tuesday, another strawberry milkshake arrived after lunch, this time saying “please?” with the symbol and the same number.
What the hell did Kieran think he was doing? Did he think he could just send her favorite dessert and she would magically forget the way he hurt her and they would sit and reminisce like old friends?
God, he'd really forgotten how she worked.
Rila gave Blake the Wednesday's milkshake — with a “give me a chance to fix this” duly scribbled — when the blonde appeared shaken after losing a patient on the operating table.
The emergency doctor took her to the roof so she could cry, and, on a pure impulse to provide a distraction, Rila told her that it was Kieran Ward who was sending the drinks.
— And you don't have the slightest desire to hear what he has to say? — she asked, her eyes and nose red from crying.
— No — it was a lie — There's nothing he can say that will make me forgive him, so that would be a waste of time.
That was true. She knew she sounded like a spiteful bitch, but she'd be lying if she said she forgave him. And this wasn't just about a broken heart or bruised ego, he caused something much worse than that. Something he couldn't fix.
— You don't have to forgive him if you don't want to — Blake turned around on the folding stool, facing Rila and holding one of her hands — But, I think listening to what he has to say can help you close that door once and for all.
Face your feelings and decide that whatever happened between you was bad enough for you to move on with your life without forgiving him and not feel bad about it.
Okay, she wasn't expecting that.
— Don't people say that holding on to hurts is poison or something? — she frowned, genuinely confused by the advice.
— I think there are some things that are impossible to forgive, and lying to yourself by saying that you're over it is worse than holding on to the hurt — the blonde shrugged and Rila wanted to ask what had happened to her, but now wouldn't be the ideal time — Besides, isn't it weird that you two found each other after all this time?
It's as if the universe is forcing you to face these feelings.
Who knows what will happen? Maybe you two will end up having angry sex and falling in love again.
— Oh God, you went from spiteful bitch to dreamy romantic too quickly — she blinked, shocked by the sudden personality change.
Blake laughed, a low, strangely restrained laugh that made her body sway slightly.
— Surprise, I'm a romantic who spends all the free time reading about couples falling in love to escape my own horror story — her words came out full of feigned excitement.
— I'm sorry for breaking your expectations, but Kieran and I are not a romance — Rila hugged her arms to her chest, both to protect herself from the cold and Blake's idea.
— Maybe not, maybe yes, we'll see — she hummed as she pushed her blonde strands out of her face after a chilly breeze blew by. They were bundled up with coats and scarves, but the wind was making things difficult.
— No, no we'll see — snorted — We lived our romance and it ended, period.
— Maybe that romance is over, but nothing stops a new one from starting — she said with a smile appearing on her pink lips — I have to say, I generally don't like second-chance romances, but I'm willing to go along with this one.
— Ugh, just drink your milkshake, Blake.
It was mid-afternoon on Friday, and no milkshakes had arrived yet. She should have been relieved about this, but strangely enough, she was disappointed. Did he give up after just four days? That said enough about how much he really wanted to talk to her. Little.
However, it wasn't a surprise. She meant little to him and that had been made abundantly clear six years ago. In fact, even before, but she was too blind to see.
— Are you going straight to my house or do you need to stop by yours first? — Jessie asked as she leaned over the emergency room counter, staring at Rila, who was updating the medical records of one of the patients.
— Straight to your place — she replied without taking her eyes off the screen — Are you sure you don't want to go through The Secrets first?
Today was her birthday, and Rila started the day by attaching balloons to her locker in the residents’ locker room.
She delivered her friend's gift at lunchtime — a new pair of the rubber shoes she loved to wear to the hospital — and forced her to blow out a candle that she stuck in her favorite donuts from the coffee cart in the garden.
They would end the celebration with dinner with Aunt Alex and Lucas as soon as their shifts ended.
— Uhm, Rila — Jessica's voice came out in a weird tone and she rolled her eyes.
— Fine — she groaned, keeping her attention on the computer in front of her — Do we need to stop to get the cake?