Date Night

Yusuuf fixed his tie. He and Elizabeth were having a date night. He packed some extra clothes in a bag, and he went out to the car, where Elizabeth was waiting.

He'd told her to doll up that night. She had on a dress that accentuated her curves. Her breasts were heavy and milk laden. It felt like the aureola were larger and darker, but that was probably her brain playing tricks on her. She was wearing high heels, and her dress was short enough that she was constantly having to tug it down.

They ate a lamb starter quietly. Elizabeth could feel the other couples in the restaurant staring them down. She looked down awkwardly.

"How do you feel?" Yusuuf said, staring at her.

"Awkward," Elizabeth mumbled, flushed.

"Why awkward? Did you not dress like this with your ex-husband?"

"I did. But it feels different with you."

"Different how?" he asked, taking a sip of water.

"Like ... with Douglas it felt natural and normal. But I feel judged here, to be honest."

"And is it others judging you, or you judging yourself?" Elizabeth blinked at that.

"It feels ... sinful. It feels haram," she admitted. "I don't like these people staring at me as if I'm a whore."

"Good," Yusuuf said, smiling broadly. "Go to the bathroom, and change."

When she got to the restroom, she peered into the bag. A hijab. An abaya. Muslim clothes. For Yusuuf's white Muslim wife. When she got back to the table, she got more stares than ever. But now, she had an internal peace.