Hell's Floor

I clasped my forehead, feeling a mild headache forming.

Luckily, other people were civil, not acting like this wannabe drama character.

My marriage partner was politely waiting for me to settle this issue while I brought Mr Lin out of the cafe.

Well, and the fact that he still wore his hospital gown made my excuse that he was a runaway patient more credible to Shang Min.

"Mr Lin, this is inappropriate. You should not be here."

I flipped my phone out, looking for the number of the hospital administrators to settle this for me. It was out of working hours and I doubt I had the strength to haul this deran- this resolute person back to the hospital on my own.

When arrangements were made to pick him up, I turned to look at the despondent man sitting at the waiting area of the cafe while others looked at him oddly.

I had threatened to call security if he did anything rash. Luckily the man was still sane enough to listen rationally.

"Mr Lin, the hospital personnel will arrive in about 15 minutes."

Thank goodness the place I had arranged the meeting at was somewhat near the hospital.

"Once again, let me reiterate. I'm not your wife and you and I have not met before."

I was firm as I stared into his soulful brown eyes.

"Dr... No. Miss Fu. I truly apologise."

My eyebrow twitched a little when he removed the "Dr" title from my name.

"But I... I had lost my wife two years ago! You looked so much like her that I... And when I overheard the nurses saying you had a blind date to go to, I couldn't help but come over in a hurry."

His pitiful puppy expression appeared again. I felt my heart relenting ever so so slightly.

But what he said seemed iffy. Although... it was a somewhat plausible excuse? Traumatic incidents like death can cause sudden loss of reason if there were triggers.

I decided to treat him as I do all delus- all my lovely patients.

With firm unbiased care.

"Unfortunately, I'm not. Your delusions could be aftereffects of the accident. No matter, I'll forgive you this time. Please ensure you get this right."

I looked at him dead in the eye and said as clearly and as seriously I could.

"Sir, I'm not your wife."

I placed my mobile phone back in my purse.

"Nor am I your attending doctor. The hospital will help you recover soon."

His sad look almost made me waver, but just remembering stories from Hell Floor gave me some resolve to ignore his sad male lead looks and its accompanying sad soundtrack.

"If you'll now excuse me. My date is waiting for me."