Take off your Hijab (Rewriting)

No I'm Not Happy✅

Third Persons POV.

Zach froze. For a moment, everything was still. He hadn't expected that. His usual confident demeanor faltered, and it made Amal feel more exposed than she ever had. She immediately regretted saying it. Why did she say it? Her stomach twisted with the weight of her confession.

Zach blinked, his voice quieter than usual, as if the truth of what she just admitted was sinking in. "No, I'm not happy." His words were blunt, but there was a raw honesty in them that shocked her.

Third Persons POV.

"Love isn't always found in the easy moments—it's in the chaos, the rawness, and the fear. It's in choosing to stay, even when every part of you is terrified to feel."

"What?" Amal stammered, completely thrown off by his response.

Amal's heart raced as her words tumbled out, louder and sharper than she intended. The tension in her chest made it hard to breathe, her thoughts swirling into a messy storm. "Are you trying to tell me that you don't want to get married to me anymore? Is this some kind of joke? A dare? Oh my God, how couldn't I see this?" she muttered to herself, her voice rising in volume with each passing word.

"God, Amal, would you shut up for a minute?" Zach's voice cracked as his words came out more strained than he intended. His usual playful tone had vanished, replaced with something raw and visceral. 

"I meant no, OF COURSE I'm really not okay, and that's because I just found out that my mom, who walked away from me—not just during the accident, or when I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and PTSD, but also at my dad's burial... while I was screaming like a child, craving his mother! She ignored me. She ignored me. Yet she took in two other kids. Am I... am I really that much of a problem? Is there something actually wrong with me?"

Zach's chest heaved, his words sharp, each one like a bitter truth he couldn't keep inside any longer. His fists clenched, his face twisted in a mix of frustration and hurt, eyes burning with a fury that Amal wasn't prepared for. She flinched at the intensity.

Amal's breath caught, the weight of Zach's words crashing over her like a tidal wave. All of her frustration, all of her anger evaporated in an instant, leaving only the raw vulnerability in his voice. She had never seen him like this before—Zach, who always had a quip, always deflected with humor, standing there unraveling in front of her.

"No," she said, her voice trembling, the sharpness gone, replaced by something softer. "No, Zach. There's nothing wrong with you. Nothing."

He laughed, but it wasn't his usual laugh. It was hollow, bitter. "You don't have to lie to me, Amal. I know how people see me. I'm the guy who's too loud, too much. The guy who can't keep it together long enough for people to stay."

Amal shook her head fiercely, stepping closer despite the twisting fear in her stomach. "Don't do that. Don't stand here and tell me who you are when I know you better than that. You're not  too much. You're Zach. You're OUR Zach. And you're not a problem, you hear me?" Her voice broke slightly at the end, but she didn't care.

He looked away, his jaw tightening, his hands gripping the railing as though it was the only thing keeping him upright. "She walked away, Amal. She chose to walk away from me. Do you have any idea what that feels like? To know your own mother couldn't love you enough to stay OR even care about your well being?" His voice cracked, and he quickly wiped at his eyes, as if he could erase the pain spilling out of him.