The bedroom light cast a soft golden hue, reflecting off the wooden table and the edge of the mirror frame. The night air slipped through the half-open window, carrying the scent of damp soil and traces of wind from the yard. I stood in front of the mirror, staring at my own reflection. The tie around my neck was still crooked—the knot off-center, one end longer than the other. Somehow, small things like this always made me nervous.

I touched the tie lightly, trying to recall how she had helped me tie it this morning before I left for work. I pulled the left end, looped it over the right, and held my breath, hoping it would turn out right this time. But when I looked again at the reflection… no. Still off. Still crooked.

I sighed quietly, looking at my own face in the mirror. “Why is this so hard…” I muttered under my breath, half annoyed, half embarrassed with myself.

From my vantage point, I could see her sitting on the bed—relaxed, watching me. There was a small smile on her face. A smile that made my heartbeat quicken just a little. I glanced at her briefly through the reflection, then quickly turned away, pretending to focus on the tie again.

I thought she was smiling because I’d finally managed to fix it. But then I heard her footsteps, soft against the wooden floor, coming closer. I could even hear the faint rustle of her clothes as she moved. She stopped behind me, and before I could say anything, her hand touched the tie at my neck. A light touch, but it made me freeze instantly.

“It’s backward,” she said softly.

I hurriedly loosened the tie, my face growing hot. “Oh! I thought you were smiling because you liked it.” My voice came out faster than I intended. I lowered my head immediately, hoping she wouldn’t notice how red my ears had gotten.

She laughed quietly—the sound made me want to smile, but I held it back. I didn’t know what to do with myself. My fingers fidgeted with the edge of the loosened tie, pretending to look busy. “Cute is good, right? If you like it, I can keep being like this.”

The words slipped out without thought. I meant them honestly, but suddenly felt foolish. I scratched the back of my neck, pretending to fold the tie, though my eyes kept stealing glances at the mirror. She was still smiling.

I took a slow breath. “It’s just that I’m not good at romantic things like those husbands in dramas,” I said finally. “But I’m learning.” I reached for my phone on the dressing table, showing her the screen still open on a search tab. “I googled how to surprise your wife earlier.”

My tone was light, but my heart was pounding fast. I met my own eyes in the mirror, and honestly, I could see how nervous I looked. My cheeks were warm, my lips a little dry. I swallowed before continuing, “It said you should give flowers but I don’t have any flowers, so I took some mint leaves from the kitchen. They smell nice, right?”

I pulled three mint leaves from my pocket. They were slightly wilted, but still smelled fresh. I held them in my palm, then slowly raised my hand. “Here,” I said, half shy, half proud. “I know these aren’t flowers, but I thought mint was nice too.”