Take off your Hijab (Rewriting)

The Reconciliation ✅

"Sometimes the people who hurt us the most are the ones who know us best—yet it's only when we're brave enough to face the past that we can begin to rebuild what was broken."

Third persons POV

"Well,then" Jamie piped up, trying to lighten the mood, "now that Amal's back, maybe we can all pretend we aren't seconds away from killing each other?" She grinned, although the tension was palpable enough to slice through.

Zach's face was stony, his hand curling into a fist on the table as he met Amal's gaze. "You really think I'm doing this to mess with you?" he asked, his voice low, intense. "I'm here because I know what I want."

Amal laughed—short, bitter. "Do you even know me, Zach? I mean really know me?" She didn't know what else to say, her pulse a frantic beat in her ears. All this time, they'd been friends, but this? It felt like an ambush.

Her mother opened her mouth as if to speak, but Azad gently placed a hand on her arm. "Amal," Azad said quietly, "sometimes, the people who care for us... They do things we don't understand at first." Her tone was uncharacteristically soft, almost tender.

Jamie looked between them all, her eyes wide. "This is so uncomfortable... but also kind of amazing?"

Azad sent her a warning look, but Jamie just shrugged, her grin unabated. "Sorry, I'm just saying."

"Listen, I didn't call, and that's on me," he admitted finally, his voice low, almost a murmur. "But maybe I thought you'd just moved on, Amal. That you'd... didn't have a need for me anymore." He avoided her gaze, glancing down at his hands as he spoke.

"didn't have a need for you??" Amal's tone softened, the accusation mellowed into something else—something tinged with sadness. "You were my best friend, Zach. You think I could forget that?" Her voice wavered, only slightly, but it was enough to make him look up at her, genuinely taken aback.

Zach opened his mouth to reply, but Jamie, ever the opportunist, broke the tension with a bright smile. "Okay, this is the most intense proposal rejection I've ever witnessed," she said, eyes darting between them, trying to defuse the mood.

Azad chuckled, and Safia just shook her head with a sigh, though her eyes were kind. "You two have been at this since high school—does anything ever really change?"

Zach shot a glance at Amal, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Well, maybe some things do," he said softly, his gaze lingering a second longer than it needed to. He could see her expression shift, the anger softening, if only a little.

"Maybe" Amal replied, barely above a whisper, her own voice wavering. For the first time, she let herself wonder if, despite everything, they might be able to start again. But her walls were high, built from years of pain, and she knew they wouldn't crumble easily. Not even for Zach.

But as they sat there, a cautious understanding settled between them—one filled with unspoken words and tentative glances, as though they both realized that, while the past had left its mark, perhaps, just perhaps, it wasn't the end of their story.

...there was room for forgiveness. The unresolved history between them felt like a weight pressing down on her chest, yet as she looked at Zach now, she could almost imagine a future where they could start over— as friends...she refused to acknowledge the elephant in the room call it fear but yes she is scared of losing Zach again...hopefully Zach could tell and drop the idea of them being more...maybe she's being a little bit selfish right now but this is exactly how she feels.

But old habits die hard, and as Amal caught the faint glimmer of hope in Zach's eyes, she cleared her throat, straightening up. "Well, if you're expecting an apology, you'll be waiting for a long time," she said, feigning a lighthearted grin, her arms crossed in a way that still guarded her heart.

Zach chuckled, shaking his head. "I wouldn't expect anything less." He offered her a lopsided smile, the kind he used to flash when they were teenagers and she'd challenged him to everything from debates to races. It was infuriatingly familiar, and she hated how it tugged at her resolve.

"Are you guys flirting right now? Because, I got to say, it feels like a real third-wheel moment here." Jamie grinned, glancing at each of them with unfiltered delight, as if she'd been waiting for this tension to bubble over into something like a rom-com climax.

Amal's face flushed as she shot Jamie a withering look. "Jamie, this is not flirting. This is... unresolved trauma or something."

Zach smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Is that what we're calling it? Unresolved trauma?" He leaned back, arms crossed, looking amused. "Could've just said you missed me, Amal."

"Missed you?" Amal snorted, though her expression softened ever so slightly. "I missed the version of you that didn't spring dramatic dinner proposals on people."

Zach held her gaze, his expression unusually serious. "That's the version I'm trying to be again. For you, if you'd let me."

For a moment, the world felt quieter, the air between them charged yet strangely comforting. Her lips pressed together as she fought to keep her composure. She wanted to believe him, but the scar of abandonment still lingered.

Breaking the silence, Safia reached over, placing a gentle hand on Amal's. "Give him a chance, dear. Sometimes, life pulls people away only to bring them back stronger."

Jamie leaned in conspiratorially toward Zach. "Honestly, if you keep making speeches like that, she might just say yes out of pure peer pressure."

Amal rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "Fine," she murmured, eyes narrowing. "But, Zach, no more theatrics. We have enough drama in this family without you adding your... whatever that was."

His grin widened, his blue eyes gleaming with renewed hope. "Then I'll take it as a yes to a second chance."

As the table returned to laughter and a tentative sense of peace, Jamie raised her glass filled with plain water. "To second chances—and the most chaotic dinner I've ever encountered!"

The toast was met with a round of laughter, Amal's included, as everyone settled into a new, yet familiar rhythm, knowing full well that old wounds would take time to heal—but maybe, just maybe, they were already on the path to doing just that.