Rejected by My Childhood Crush: Then Adored by a CEO

Ever since childhood, Emma Parker had drawn the wrong kind of attention because of her overly striking figure. Girls isolated her. Men harassed her.

Even Ryan Cooper, the boy who had grown up beside her, treated her like someone whose devotion could be mocked and taken for granted.

Just to be with him, she had finally gathered the courage to walk into a breast reduction clinic.

And there, she met Daniel Bennett. The cold, untouchable doctor everyone in Riverton whispered about.

He was the first man who had ever looked at her without judgment in his eyes.

"Your boyfriend's beauty standards aren't a medical diagnosis."

He taught her how to stop shrinking herself for other people. When Ryan's friends sneered at her and humiliated her, Daniel stood between her and every cruel word.

When a perverted doctor tried to assault her, he arrived just in time and pulled her into his arms.

For the first time in her life, Emma stopped living under the weight of other people's stares.

Only after watching her grow brighter, more confident, more dazzling by the day, did Ryan realize what he had lost.

Regret consumed him. He begged her to look back at him one more time.

But Daniel merely pulled the girl in his arms closer, his gaze turning cold.

"Too late. She's mine."

......

"Dear Ms. Emma Parker, your breast reduction surgery appointment has been successfully registered. Please arrive before Friday for your pre-op examination."

I stared at the bizarre text message and let out a helpless laugh. Ads really had gotten terrifyingly accurate these days.

I was about to delete it when Ryan's hesitant expression suddenly flashed through my mind.

"Emma, the future daughter-in-law of the Cooper family is supposed to look elegant, not provocative. Tone it down a little."

I lowered my eyes. It had only been a simple dress, yet my curves made it look far more alluring than it was meant to.

After that day, I shoved every fitted piece of clothing I owned into the very bottom drawer.

I stared at the address in the message for a long time before finally making up my mind.

At the hospital, I stood nervously outside the breast surgery consultation room.

"Next patient, Emma Parker."

I took a deep breath and pushed the door open, only to freeze on the spot.

The doctor inside was a man.

A mask covered the lower half of his face, leaving only a pair of sharp, piercing eyes exposed.

For one brief second, I wanted to turn around and run.

Then he looked up, glanced at me standing stiffly in the doorway, and frowned. "Are you coming in or not?"

Pinned beneath that gaze, I had nowhere to escape. I could only force myself to walk in and sit down.

"How old are you?" He rested his pen against the medical chart and finally lifted his eyes to meet mine.

Maybe it was the way his eyes had lingered on my chest earlier, or maybe my brain had completely stopped working from nerves.

Heat rushed straight to my face. "E..."

My voice came out tiny and strained. By the time I finished speaking, even my ears were burning.

Then his gaze dropped briefly to my chest before he said hoarsely, "I was asking your age."

I froze. My mind exploded into static as embarrassment crashed over me so hard I nearly fled the room on the spot.

"I... I'm twenty-three."

"Too young." He seemed to notice my embarrassment, his brows drawing together slightly. "Do you personally think you need surgery, or did someone tell you that you do?"

I lowered my head. "My boyfriend thinks... I'm too noticeable..."

The man's deep voice cut me off before I could finish. "Your boyfriend's beauty standards aren't a medical diagnosis."

I froze.

In all these years, no one had ever said something like that to me before.

Everyone thought my figure meant I was "too flashy" or "too seductive," as if my body itself were some kind of mistake that needed correcting.

And this stranger, this doctor I'd never met before, told me in the calmest tone imaginable—there was nothing wrong with me.

He didn't offer any exaggerated comfort after that. He simply slid the consent form toward me and carefully explained every surgical risk, the recovery process, and the possible complications.

"I'm giving you seven days to think about it." He closed the folder. "If you still want the surgery after seven days, I'll arrange the best surgical team for you."

I hadn't expected a doctor to talk me out of surgery.

And yet, something inside my chest loosened anyway, like someone had finally undone a button that had been fastened too tightly for far too long.

By the time I walked out of the hospital, the evening breeze felt warm and gentle against my skin.

I took a deep breath.

My phone vibrated. A message from Ryan popped up. "Come out. Same place."

The "same place" was the bar on West Street.

When I arrived, seven or eight people were already crowded into the booth, all of them Ryan's friends.

Smoke curled through the air while deafening music pounded against the walls.

Vanessa Miller, Ryan's so-called "best buddy," sat right beside him. Her makeup was flawless as she waved at me with a bright smile. "Emma's here! Come sit with us!"

I forced out a smile and slipped into the seat furthest in the corner.

Vanessa eagerly poured me a drink and handed over the glass, only to yank it back right before it touched my fingers.

"Oh my God, how could I forget?" She slapped her forehead dramatically. "Emma, you booked breast reduction surgery, right? You're not supposed to drink before surgery, are you?"

Her voice wasn't loud, but it was perfectly calculated so everyone at the table could hear it.

Every single gaze turned toward me at once. Toward my chest.

"Holy shit, Emma, you're seriously getting a reduction?" one of the guys blurted out with a whistle. He grinned shamelessly. "Ryan, you idiot, and here I thought you had taste. Those are amazing..."

The entire booth erupted into knowing laughter.

Vanessa hurriedly waved her hands. "Stop it, stop it. You're going to embarrass Emma."

She sounded like she was trying to help. But the smug curve tugging at the corner of her lips made it obvious she was enjoying every second of this.

The color slowly drained from my face.

And finally, it hit me. That surgery text had never been an advertisement at all.

Vanessa had used my name to book the appointment.

I turned to look at Ryan.

Holding his glass, his gaze flickered for a brief moment before he looked away and took a sip of his drink.

He didn't say a single word.