I was seven months pregnant when I found a stack of unfamiliar medical records while tidying my closet. I opened them, and my photo was right there on the pages. The diagnosis read, "Severe schizophrenia" and "Delusions: firmly believes she is married to a billionaire, when in fact she has never been married." "The patient has been receiving treatment for five years, with her condition fluctuating between improvement and relapse."
My hands and feet went cold. Unable to believe it, I took out my wedding photo with Huo Yan and called the hospital to verify the records. But the receptionist said, "Miss Su, are you having another episode? That gentleman is one of our hospital's attending physicians. He's been in charge of your treatment all along. You have never been married to him."
Just then, Huo Yan walked through the door. He saw the medical records in my hands, and his expression turned complicated. "You haven't been taking your medication on time again?"
I lowered my gaze to my swollen belly. If I was mentally ill, then whose child was the baby inside me?!
