Fated love: the unwanted bride
Chapter 1308: Charles Mcintosh, Handling the Discharge Procedures

Chapter 1308: Chapter 1308: Charles Mcintosh, Handling the Discharge Procedures

Jasmine Yale paused in her steps.

A strange sensation, as if a thousand ants were crawling within her chest, overcame her.

She hadn’t expected Charles McIntosh to be so straightforward—it must have been Sylvan Cheney’s directive.

Without turning around, she merely lowered her eyelids slightly and responded softly, "I won’t come again."

What was the point in coming back?

Suddenly, she found her anxious and flustered journey hilarious, as if it had been a solo performance.

In his life, her presence or absence made no difference; it was insignificant.

Jasmine quietly walked toward the corridor.

Her steps felt heavy, and her mind went blank for a moment.

Butler Santana was waiting outside, and upon spotting Jasmine, he expressed surprise, "Miss Yale, why are you out so quickly? Didn’t you see Mr. Cheney?"

Jasmine smiled, "I did see him, it’s nothing."

"Why don’t you stay a bit longer? Where are you going now?"

"I’m going downstairs to buy the porridge he likes; I’ll be back shortly."

"Miss Yale, stay with Mr. Cheney, I’ll go buy it."

"I know what he likes; I’ll go buy it."

Butler Santana did not insist further, knowing that Mr. Cheney would prefer the porridge if Miss Yale bought it personally.

Jasmine hugged her arms, feeling very cold.

Despite the hospital being heated, all she felt was cold.

She slowly walked to the staircase, her scarf covering half of her face.

The third floor wasn’t very high, and it didn’t take long to walk down.

The building was very quiet, with few people on the stairs; she could even hear her own footsteps.

Halfway down, she remembered that her luggage was still at the Cheney Residence.

She had thought he was seriously ill and had prepared to stay in Landon to take care of him, bringing many clothes.

She hadn’t anticipated being turned away, having just gotten off the plane, only to return in disgrace.

Jasmine turned back, intending to ask Butler Santana for the keys.

But, what she didn’t expect—

This time, when she turned back, Sylvan had woken up!

"Mr. Cheney, you need to hang another IV bag this morning, but you need to have breakfast first; you can’t do it on an empty stomach," a nurse’s gentle voice came from the slightly ajar hospital room.

"Get out!"

"Mr. Cheney, this—"

"What IV? McIntosh, process the discharge papers," it was Sylvan’s voice.

"Mr. Cheney, it’s not okay; your fever hasn’t fully subsided, you definitely can’t be discharged now. Mr. McIntosh, please advise—" the nurse sounded distressed.

"Mr. Cheney, how about we observe for one more day, and I’ll help you with the discharge tomorrow?" McIntosh didn’t advocate for a discharge at this time either.

"I’ve said I’m fine; it’s just a cold, why stay in the hospital?" Sylvan spoke sharply.

But due to his physical weakness, his voice sounded less icy and more hoarse and deep than usual.

"Mr. Cheney, it’s not just a cold, you also coughed up blood; we need to run a few more tests," the nurse persisted.

"McIntosh, process the discharge," Sylvan was firm, a man of few words.

McIntosh was genuinely troubled.

Sylvan’s health clearly hadn’t recovered well, and discharging at this time wouldn’t be beneficial.

Outside the room, Jasmine heard everything clearly.

It seemed Sylvan’s condition wasn’t as severe as Joe Heath had said, but it wasn’t a minor issue either; according to the nurse, he had coughed up blood.

"Who’s there?" Sylvan suddenly asked coldly.

He was always vigilant, instantly alert to any disturbance.

Jasmine was startled!

In the next second, the hospital room door opened.