You stood before the mirror, dressed perfectly for your date night, the outfit, flawless, the perfume, divine, the soft makeup on point, everything was perfect, except one thing.

Your hijab.

It refused to cooperate.

You adjusted it once, it slipped. You pinned it again, it wrinkled. By the fifth try, it somehow looked even worse.

You groaned in frustration. “Ya Allah, why today of all days?”

From the bed, your husband looked up from fastening his watch, amusement tugging at his lips. “Everything okay, sayang?”

“No!” You snapped, glaring at your reflection as you wrestled with the rebellious fabric. “This thing has declared war on me.”

He laughed softly, rising to his feet and walking toward you. “It looks fine to me.”