I went to a clinic for breast reduction surgery, only to find the handsome doctor was the same guy I had a blind date with yesterday. Dr. Wyatt’s charming eyes twinkled, his voice deep and calm: “Please take off your top and unhook your bra.” My face burned as I underwent the examination, but then I couldn’t for the life of me hook my bra back up. Dr. Wyatt called for a nurse to help me. My brain completely short-circuited. I quickly refused, flustered: “No, it’s fine! You can just help me yourself!” The next second, Dr. Wyatt’s arms gently wrapped around me… Before I left for my blind date, my mom glared at my oversized, thick hoodie with pure disdain. “Can’t you ever bother to dress up a little? Do you really think he’ll want you looking like that?” She forced me into a slightly tighter top, then snatched my glasses off my face. “What are you doing with those glasses? What if he thinks you’re too bookish, or that you just don’t care about your appearance? What if he thinks you’re not *trying* to look good enough for him?” I habitually hunched my shoulders, mumbling defensively, “I can’t see without them.” My mom snorted. “Don’t try to fool me. That’s a mild prescription; you’re not blind! How could you not see the road?” “Are you deliberately trying to ruin this date?” “Let me tell you, this guy has amazing prospects. So many girls would kill to marry him. Don’t be so ungrateful.” I wanted to say I also had astigmatism and things looked blurry, but I just shut up. My mom’s decisions were set in stone. She only believed what she thought was right. My vision was blurry as I left the house, and because I couldn’t make out the numbers, I missed a bus. By the time I reached the downtown coffee shop, I was 10 minutes late for our appointment. I scurried into the coffee shop, squinting to find a man in a white shirt. By the window, a man in a white shirt looked up at me. It must be him, right? I hurried over, my face full of apologies. “I’m so sorry, I’m a little late.” The man seemed to freeze for a moment. “You are…?” “I’m Chloe.” “Chloe?” A smile appeared on his face, his voice sounding a little strange. “I’m… Wyatt.” His voice was deep and pleasant. Though his features were a bit blurry to me, I could tell he was good-looking. Tall and broad-shouldered. Fair-skinned with thick hair. He also had a pleasant woody cologne scent. I awkwardly lowered my gaze. My mom was right. Such a handsome blind date wouldn’t possibly be interested in just an average girl like me. Sure enough, a few minutes after I sat down, Wyatt took a call. “Excuse me, I have something to take care of. Can you wait for me here? I’ll be right back.” With that, he swiftly strode out of the coffee shop with his long legs. I let out a bitter laugh. His excuse was so lame. He probably just set an alarm to escape, right? And he didn’t even ask for my contact info. Clearly, he wasn’t interested. But I hadn’t really expected anything to come of it anyway. I knew I wasn’t good enough for him. My phone rang. It was my mom. As soon as I picked up, I was hit with a torrent of scolding. “Chloe, where did you go? The young man has been waiting for you for 20 minutes!” I quickly explained. “We just met. He wasn’t interested and he already left.” My mom’s voice grew even shriller. “What nonsense are you talking about? He just told me he’s still waiting for you and hasn’t seen a single sign of you!” My heart dropped. There were two coffee shops side by side here. In my haste, and with my blurry vision, I must have walked into the wrong one. So the guy I just met wasn’t my blind date?
After hanging up, I rushed to the coffee shop next door. There, I met my real blind date. He wore glasses, had a round face, and was a bit balding. He didn’t really look like a “young man.” I was so late, he was clearly annoyed. “We in the government sector are very strict about punctuality.” I quickly apologized. “I’m so sorry.” “It’s fine, I’ll forgive you this time. I’m quite the gentleman, you know.” I didn’t know what to say. This blind date was arranged by my mom. She said she was afraid I’d say the wrong thing and offend the guy. So she added him on SnapChat herself, chatted for a few days, and once she felt he was suitable, she pushed me out to meet him. My date pulled out his phone. “Let’s swap SnapChat info. Your mom told me all about you. I gotta say, I’m pretty happy with your appearance.” He then flashed a sleazy grin, teasing, “Your chest is huge, like a dairy cow’s. Our kids will never go hungry for milk!” As he spoke, he gestured with his hand, drawing a half-circle in the air. My face flushed crimson. “Are you out of your mind?!” Then I stormed out. Back home, I was met with my mom’s explosive fury. “Chloe, he said he was interested in you, and you just turned around and ran off! Are you trying to kill me?!” “You’re a woman over 25, almost 30! Do you even want to get married?!” I mustered my courage to retort, “That guy’s a creep! Who says someone’s chest is huge like a dairy cow’s the first time they meet them?!” I thought she’d understand. When I first started developing, she’d always told me that having a big chest was shameful for a girl and I should hide it. She’d warned me to stay away from boys who stared at my chest. So I’d gotten used to hunching my shoulders, wearing loose clothes, and trying to conceal my prominent chest. But my mom just scoffed. “He was just making a joke, and you’re overreacting! No wonder you don’t have any friends!” “Besides, a woman’s chest is for her husband and children! If you didn’t have that ‘asset,’ why would a decent guy from a stable government job even look at you?!” I was so angry I didn’t want to talk to her, so I just went back to my room. My mom kept yelling outside the door. “Chloe, your mom’s never wrong. Only your mom truly cares about you in this world!” “Women are only young for a few years! Stop being so picky! You’re no supermodel, and this guy is more than good enough for you…” Annoyed, I put on my headphones and started scrolling on my phone. I knew my mom loved me. But when it came to my relationships, she became completely unreasonable and spoke without thinking. She’d try to verbally force me to find a man and get married quickly. She’d strictly guard me in school, not even letting me talk to boys. But just a couple of years after graduation, she was demanding I go on blind dates and have children. Any old loser was a “good man” in her eyes. While I definitely wasn’t a supermodel, didn’t I deserve to marry a *normal* guy? I sighed. I accidentally clicked on an ad. Starlight Aesthetics Clinic. I was about to close it when four words caught my eye. [Breast Reduction Surgery…] I looked down at the two troublesome mounds on my chest. Memories flashed through my mind: classmates’ teasing in school, the blind date’s vulgar comments, and my own figure looking like a barrel in a sweatshirt… I was just an average girl, but these burdens always drew unwanted attention. It made me feel awkward and self-conscious, so much so that I rarely walked with my head held high. I hesitated for a moment, then dialed the consultation number.
The next day, Sunday, I made up an excuse to my mom and left the house. Coincidentally, Starlight Aesthetics Clinic was right across from the coffee shop where I had my blind date yesterday. Sitting in the consultation room, I felt a little nervous. The nurse who led me in poured me a glass of water. “Please wait a moment, ma’am. Dr. Wyatt will be in for your consultation shortly.” Perhaps seeing my tension, she tried to reassure me. “Dr. Wyatt is excellent! He guarantees beautiful results wherever you go!” Well, I don’t need *that*… just make them smaller. After waiting a bit longer, I heard footsteps outside the consultation room. A handsome guy, easily six feet one, walked in wearing a white lab coat. I was stunned. He looked incredibly handsome, making even a lab coat look like a designer trench coat. He paused when he saw me, a slight flicker of surprise in his eyes. I awkwardly stood up, my face heating up. It was the first time such a handsome man had stared at me, though his gaze was a little strange. “Dr. Wyatt, hello. I’m here to consult about… breast reduction surgery.” I said the last four words barely above a whisper. Dr. Wyatt snapped back to attention, a smile gracing his lips as he sat opposite me. I froze for a moment; his smile was truly captivating. If all my blind dates looked like him, that would be amazing. Dr. Wyatt first looked over the personal information the nurse had filled out for me, then asked: “Do you have a boyfriend?” “Huh?” I stared at him in surprise. “Does that have anything to do with the surgery?” Perhaps it was my imagination, but a hint of awkwardness flashed across Dr. Wyatt’s face. “Just casual conversation. Let’s see, your request is to reduce your cup size to an A?” I nodded, my voice a mosquito-like whisper. “No boyfriend. Yes, flat-chested would be best.” I was so envious of girls with smaller chests. Everything they wore looked so chic and sophisticated. Unlike me, I looked plump in too many clothes and trashy in too few. Dr. Wyatt looked thoughtful. “What’s your current cup size?” My face instantly flared crimson. “It might be… an E, I think… I’m not really sure…” My bras were all randomly bought online; the same size could be loose or tight. Dr. Wyatt’s charming eyes twinkled. “Would you mind if I took some measurements?” I felt myself flush from head to toe, unable to believe what I was hearing. “C-can I… have a female doctor instead?” Dr. Wyatt replied gently, “Breast reduction is a complex procedure, with high risks. If not done well, it can cause mammary gland damage. I wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving it to anyone else.” I was startled. I mentally chanted, “It’s professional. It’s for my health,” and nodded in agreement. He stepped outside and called a nurse in. I secretly let out a sigh of relief. So it wasn’t just the two of us for the examination. Dr. Wyatt pulled back a curtain in the consultation room, gesturing for me to go inside. “There’s a camera there, but this area is out of its view.” My legs were trembling with nerves as I shuffled in, taking tiny steps. The nurse stayed outside the curtain and didn’t follow me in. A deep male voice resonated near my ear: “Please take off your top and unhook your bra.”
I closed my eyes and did as I was told. A sudden coolness spread across my chest. Dr. Wyatt held a stiff ruler and a soft measuring tape, moving them across my chest. My heart pounded like thunder, and I felt breathless. When he measured around, his fingers inevitably brushed against my skin. It felt like an electric shock, a current surging from my toes to my head. I awkwardly turned my head away. Out of the corner of my eye, though, I saw that Dr. Wyatt’s gaze was utterly focused and professional. Those few minutes felt like centuries. Finally, Dr. Wyatt spoke. “You can put your clothes back on now.” I fumbled to put my clothes on, but I just couldn’t hook my bra. Dr. Wyatt, turned to the side, tidying up his instruments. He hesitated, then asked, “Do you need the nurse to help you?” I quickly shook my head. “N-no… no, it’s fine. You can just help me yourself.” The moment the words left my lips, I saw Dr. Wyatt’s movements freeze. He looked stunned. I bit my tongue, wishing I could just bang my head against the wall. What a pathetic mess I was. How could I have blurted out the thought that had just flashed through my mind? Oh no. A handsome man like Dr. Wyatt, how could he possibly tolerate me saying something like that? He wouldn’t just kick me out, would he? I was sweating with anxiety, but my bra hook was stubbornly refusing to cooperate. A pleasant woody scent suddenly grew stronger. Dr. Wyatt’s face was right in front of me. He gently wrapped his arms around me, his hand reaching behind my back, and in one swift motion, he fastened my bra hook. His warm breath accidentally brushed against my earlobe. My whole body tingled. I didn’t dare to move. Afraid the man in front of me would hear my heart pounding like thunder. Dr. Wyatt’s expression remained composed. He绅士ly pulled away from me. “Alright, let’s talk at the desk.” Sitting back down, I was so nervous and embarrassed that I didn’t quite catch what Dr. Wyatt was saying. He good-naturedly repeated, “Your actual cup size is a D. It just appears much larger than other D-cup sizes because your breast shape is conical, unlike round or teardrop shapes.” “I don’t think this size should be impacting your daily life. Could you tell me your reason for wanting the surgery?” My gaze dropped, not daring to look at him. “Because they’re too prominent. They always attract attention.” Dr. Wyatt smiled. “You’re so beautiful, why are you afraid of people looking at you?” I looked up in surprise. “What?” Dr. Wyatt didn’t seem to be teasing me; his smile was utterly genuine. He stood up, leaned one hand on the desk, and bent over. His elegant, slender fingers gently removed my glasses. His voice was soft, almost caressing: “I think you look even better without your glasses.” The world suddenly turned blurry, and Dr. Wyatt’s handsome features looked like they were covered in a faint mosaic. I felt like I had seen him somewhere before. I murmured, “Wyatt?” He tilted his head. “Finally remember me?” His tone was as if… we were old friends reunited.
No one in my family had poor eyesight. I deliberately ruined my eyes. Back in school, my mom would always scold me whenever I looked at her. “Why are you staring with those big eyes? Do you think big eyes are pretty? Don’t you know you look so naive and uncultured like that, only attracting street thugs?” I was terrified of her and never dared to argue that I wasn’t staring. I could only read in the dark, writing with my face very close to the paper. Finally, I managed to develop nearsightedness and astigmatism, and I got to wear glasses as I wished. My mom picked out the most old-fashioned black frames with thick lenses for me. She finally seemed satisfied. “Now you look like a diligent, studious child.” But she was always contradictory; she never liked me wearing glasses on blind dates. That’s why it took me until now to realize that Dr. Wyatt was the same person I mistakenly thought was my blind date yesterday! How could it be such a coincidence?! I was so embarrassed I wanted to curl up and disappear. He wouldn’t think I tried to hit on him yesterday and then deliberately came here to harass him today, would he? And also, was Wyatt nearsighted too? Otherwise… otherwise, how could he say I was pretty? Wyatt picked up a large round mirror from the desk and held it in front of me. “My vision is perfect, 20/20. Don’t you ever look in the mirror?” Huh? I said what I was thinking out loud again? Today was truly mortifying. I instinctively looked at the mirror. My mom’s voice automatically echoed in my ears. “Your eyebrows are too thick, like a man’s. Your eyes are big but lifeless. Your nose is too small, your lips too thick. Your face is pale as a ghost, and your chin is too pointed, you look like you have no luck in life…” I’d heard those words for nearly twenty years. Every time I looked in the mirror, I’d think, maybe she was right. I really wasn’t good-looking. That’s why boys always teased me in school, and why so many blind dates after work never worked out. I lowered my head again. “Dr. Wyatt, I apologize for bothering you twice. Please don’t tease me.” Seeing my disbelief, Wyatt raised an eyebrow. “How about we make a bet?” I put my glasses back on, asking dumbly, “Huh? A bet… about what?” Wyatt’s handsome, thin lips opened and closed, glistening. I was mesmerized, instinctively nodding. When I came to my senses, I wanted to crawl into a hole and hide. Wyatt’s slender, defined fingers tapped the desk. “Alright, if you lose… you have to grant me one wish.” “If I lose, I’ll perform your surgery for free.”
That afternoon, Wyatt took me to a high-end department store. A place I always passed but never dared to enter. He picked out two dresses for me, one black, one white, both absolutely gorgeous. I tried them on. The dresses had tight waists, making my chest look even more voluminous. The skirts flared slightly, revealing my legs, which were quite fair since I always wore long pants. Standing in front of the mirror, I barely recognized myself. I quietly said to Wyatt, “Department store mirrors are really something, huh? They have a built-in slimming effect.” Wyatt covered his forehead with a hand. “The mirrors are normal. Trust my aesthetic judgment, I am a plastic surgeon, after all.” “I think both dresses look great on you. Which one do you like?” I hesitated. I was too embarrassed to tell him I had trouble making decisions. Normally, when online shopping, I’d procrastinate until the minute before coupons expired before finally choosing. Maybe I should just pick one randomly? But the black one was more practical… the white one was more special… Which one to choose? Seeing I didn’t answer, Wyatt made the decision for me. “Let’s get both. They’re different styles anyway.” He pulled out his phone to pay, and I quickly stopped him. “I’ll pay myself.” I checked the tag—five digits. Two dresses would wipe out my savings. It hurt a little. Maybe I should just pick one? While I was still stunned, Wyatt had already paid, picked up the bags, and motioned for me to follow. It seemed treating decision-making paralysis just required money. I looked at the reflective floor of the mall, thinking hard, but couldn’t figure it out. What was Wyatt’s angle? I was so plain, so broke, so uninteresting… Was I really worth him spending so much money? Next, Wyatt took me to get my eyes checked and fitted me for daily disposable contact lenses. Silicone hydrogel, apparently, also very expensive… It was my first time wearing these, and I was clumsy. Wyatt gently caressed my cheek with his fingers, helping me put them in. The world was clearer than ever before. Except everything seemed a little bigger. I stared at the man’s Adam’s apple, swallowing hard. Wyatt looked at me with satisfaction. “Your skin is beautiful; you don’t even need makeup. You’re a natural beauty.” My face flushed again, a little thrill going through me. Maybe… I did have some good qualities?
After a busy half-day, we finally got to the main event. Wyatt and I stood at the door of a private karaoke room. He gave me a reassuring smile. “They’re all my friends inside. Don’t be nervous.” He suddenly leaned close, whispering in my ear. “If I win, don’t you dare refuse my… request.” With that, Wyatt pushed open the door to the room. Suddenly, I felt a strange anticipation for myself to lose. What request would he make? As I stepped into the room with Wyatt, under the dim lights, a dozen men and women turned to look at us. It was my first time being the center of attention in such a setting, and I nervously clutched the hem of my dress. The atmosphere froze for a second, then erupted into cheers. “The sun must be rising from the west! Dr. Wyatt actually brought a girl to a party! And she’s a beauty!” Wyatt subtly held up one finger to me. “Old Wyatt, where did you meet such a beautiful girl? You’re so lucky!” Wyatt curved his lips into a smile, holding up two fingers. “Hi, Future Sister-in-Law! You’re so pretty!” I quickly waved my hands. “We’re… just friends.” Wyatt mouthed the words: “Three.” Besides Wyatt and me, there were eight other people in the room. The bet was that if half the people complimented my looks, Wyatt would win. It wasn’t even half. He was going to lose. I knew it. Wyatt must have bad eyesight. Those three who just complimented me must have just been being polite. I lowered my head, feeling self-conscious. I didn’t see Wyatt’s face suddenly darken. A sophisticated-looking woman immediately pulled me to sit next to her. “I love sitting with pretty girls! I’m Stella, what’s your name, sweetie?” “Hi, I’m Chloe.” Wyatt won. He seemed to be in a great mood and picked a song. “Hard to forget the first time I saw you, those captivating eyes, your image in my mind… I can’t shake it…” Did Wyatt have *no* flaws? How could he even sing so beautifully?! He looked deeply into my direction. Was he looking at me?
I sat awkwardly in the corner. Wyatt’s friends were very welcoming and even pulled me into their group chat for planning get-togethers. Someone invited me to play dice. I shook my head. “Sorry, I don’t know how.” Someone asked what song I wanted to sing. I gave an embarrassed laugh. “I’ll just listen to you guys. I’m tone-deaf.” In the end, everyone else was enthusiastically enjoying themselves, while I shrank in the corner, scrolling on my phone. Just like every other friend gathering I’d ever been to. I swiped my phone screen back and forth, pretending to be busy. Someone next to me handed Stella the microphone. “The next song is a must-have for every gathering—your love duet with Wyatt!” “You two have been singing love songs together for years. When are you and Old Wyatt finally going to make it official?” Stella laughed playfully. “No rush. Old Wyatt and I have known each other for years; we understand each other perfectly.” Oh. So Wyatt wasn’t looking at me earlier. For a second, I actually thought he was singing that song to *me*. Of course, I was just deluding myself. Stella seemed like a girl a hundred times better than me. I picked up a drink from the table and gulped it down. My phone vibrated. It was my mom. I jumped in fright. If my mom found out I was at a karaoke bar, I’d be dead. Wyatt finished singing. Stella took the microphone and walked towards him, ready for their duet. I quietly ran out of the room to answer my mom’s call. “Chloe! What time is it?! Aren’t you coming home? Don’t you have work tomorrow morning?!” I timidly replied, “I’m on my way back now.” “You don’t have a boyfriend! A single girl staying out until 10 PM, people will say I raised you poorly…” I quickly hung up. Stepping out, I realized it was raining. And it was coming down pretty hard. The ride-sharing app showed 200 people ahead of me in the queue. I was about to dash into the rain when someone grabbed my arm. I turned around. Wyatt’s face was expressionless. “Was my singing that bad? Did it scare you away?” I stammered, “I-it was… really good. My mom called and told me to come home. Aren’t you supposed to sing a duet with Stella? So I didn’t say goodbye.” Wyatt raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t want to hear me sing a love song with someone else?” I lowered my head. “No…” What right did I have not to want to hear it? A large hand gently stroked the top of my head. “Why are you always so cautious? Never mind, if you don’t like these kinds of places, I’ll drive you home.”
The car was parked in the open-air lot. Wyatt told me to wait while he drove it over. I felt a little guilty enjoying the ride, so I ran with him to the parking lot. The rain was heavy, and it was windy too. By the time I struggled to reach the car, I was soaked from head to toe. Once inside, Wyatt rummaged for tissues. I couldn’t take my eyes off his drenched T-shirt. “One, two…” Two clean white tissues were offered to me. “What are you counting?” “Abs…” I answered subconsciously, then immediately realized what I’d said. Wyatt didn’t seem embarrassed at all. Instead, he leaned his arm back. His T-shirt clung to his body, clearly revealing a six-pack and two pink n*pples peeking through. A perfectly sculpted body like something out of a comic book, paired with his handsome face. I couldn’t control myself and swallowed hard. A little embarrassing. Wyatt’s lips curved into a smile. “Checking me out before you pay, is that fair?” “What?” Before I could react, Wyatt’s fingers pinched my chin, and he kissed me. At first, it was just a gentle brush, a tentative touch of lips. My hands were on Wyatt’s shoulders. I meant to push him away, but somehow, they ended up circling his neck instead. Wyatt seemed encouraged. His tongue gently parted my lips, stealing all my breath. The temperature inside the car instantly soared. The single sip of alcohol I’d had earlier seemed to spread through my entire body, making my limbs go weak. Wyatt’s kisses grew more aggressive, as if he wanted to devour me whole. I let out a soft moan of discomfort. I was suffocating. I still hadn’t learned to breathe during a kiss. After a long while, Wyatt finally took pity on me and pulled back slightly, but he didn’t get up. He leaned against my cheek, whispering in my ear: “Chloe, you really should see how beautiful you are right now.” His hot breath brushed my earlobe. His muscular chest pressed tightly against my softness. Making my body tremble from head to toe. “Wyatt…” My phone buzzed with continuous SnapChat notifications. The intimate atmosphere in the car was instantly shattered. I didn’t even need to look to know my mom was bombing me with messages and voice notes again. Wyatt pulled away from me, glanced at the screen, and asked, “Is it okay not to reply?” I clutched my phone, embarrassed and furious, and pressed the power button, turning it off. I’d been a good girl for twenty-something years. What if I let loose for one night? The feeling just now was too good. I really wanted it to continue. If Wyatt asked if I wanted him to take me home, how should I answer? Would it be too forward to say I didn’t want to go home? But I really wanted to keep kissing… Unknowingly, I started overthinking again. Wyatt chuckled softly, then leaned in once more. I closed my eyes, only to feel a cool sensation across my chest. Huh? He had pulled out my seatbelt and fastened it for me. “To my place.” It wasn’t a question. Wyatt knew what I wanted at that moment. A spacious penthouse in the city center. With floor-to-ceiling windows and an entire wall dedicated to a wine collection.
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