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Trigger warning: suicide

The song “Lean on Me” starts playing on Deirdre’s phone. She stretches back in her deceased father’s worn-down red fabric recliner and sighs. She slowly reaches over to find her iPhone lying face down on her discolored black Ikea side table under two layers of magazines and confirms it’s her best friend, Daksh. Dierdre knows she should answer so he doesn’t worry and it’s been several days since she talked to him. She pauses the reality show on her TV and answers.

“Hey. What’s up?” She asks with a flat voice. 

“Dierdre.”

“Yeah?”

“I know you’re binging Netflix and eating Chinese food…or is it Thai tonight?”

Deirdre looks up at her matching black Ikea coffee table at the foot of her recliner where the remains of her Chinese takeout are spread between a few boxes. Damn, he knows me too well. She thinks.

“Nah, man. I’m just hanging out at home. I have to work tomorrow anyway, so I don’t want to go out.”

“Cool, then I’ll come over and we can hang out. There’s a new show I really want to watch with you. It’s called ‘Second Chances’. It’s based on audience participation. The first show airs tonight in 30 minutes.”

“Dude. You don’t need to come over.”

“Dee – I’m coming over. If you don’t want to prove me right about that Chinese takeout, just toss it in the trash before I arrive. I’ll be there in 5 minutes.”

Deirdre sighs.

“Come on man, I’m your best friend. You can’t just kick me out when you’re feeling depressed. That’s when you need me most.”

“Fine, man. Fine.” Deirdre says with resignation and a smile. She loves Daksh and knows it will brighten her day to see him.

In the two weeks since she decided to end things with her girlfriend, Zaa, Dierdre hadn’t felt like leaving her house or even waking up. She had always struggled with depression, but things had changed when she met Zaa. It’s not as if her depression had completely vanished. It was more like she had the support of someone who loved her to help through the bad spots when she couldn’t overcome them on her own. S

he had adored Zaa, she still did, but she knew she couldn’t be with someone who would lie to her for so long about something so serious. As Dierdre stood to pick up the remnants of Chinese food from the table, she thought back to that moment her eyes first locked with Zaa.

***

It had been instantaneous, their chemistry. They smiled at each other across the LGBTQ+ nightclub in downtown Rome and Deirdre immediately knew there was something special about her. In a trance, she had weaved her way through the crowded bar until she arrived at Zaa’s side, where she stood leaning against the wall with a quiet confidence.

Deirdre had hoped she would have something to clever to say by the time she arrived, but nothing had come to her. She stood there with her large green puppy dog eyes and her long, wavy, auburn locks looking intensely at this woman she knew would be special to her.

Zaa didn’t say anything either. In silence, she met Deirdre’s intense gaze with her own chocolate eyes. She moved closer to Deirdre, so the women were only inches apart and gently put her hand behind Deirdre’s head. She slowly brought her plump red lips closer to Deirdre’s thin, pink lips and they connected for the first time. It was a sweet, romantic kiss, not the passionate kind that one might expect at bar where drinks were ample, and singleness abounded.

After what felt to Deirdre like a blissful eternity, Zaa slowly pulled away. Deirdre gently opened her eyes and refocused her gaze on Zaa’s beautiful face and smooth chestnut skin.

“Come, walk with me.” Zaa said in a silky voice with perfect English and just the hint of some exotic accent. The two women had arrived as strangers and left as lovers on that strange and wonderful night. Since that night, Deirdre and Zaa had fallen more and more in love.

It was Deirdre’s second day in Rome when the women met. From the night they met, the women had spent every possible moment together, talking, sleeping, showering and making love. Zaa had invited Dierdre to move out of her hostel and into her apartment after only a day together and Deirdre had readily agreed. The only time they spent apart over the next three weeks was the four hours a day Zaa went to school to teach English. Zaa had moved to Italy for a year-long English teaching commitment. Deirdre and Zaa had fallen madly in love, but they knew this wouldn’t last forever.

It turned out that they had both been raised outside of Chicago and it was where Deirdre had remained living since her father passed away her senior year of college. After nearly a month in Italy, Deirdre had landed at O’Hare exactly two months prior to Zaa finishing her teaching agreement. After spending that time in a long distance relationship, they decided that they couldn’t stand being apart and would immediately move in together upon Zaa’s return.

When Zaa arrived back in the U.S., Deirdre had gone to Zaa’s parents’ house to help move all of her things into Deirdre’s house. Deirdre was surprised when she learned that Zaa’s parents were devout Muslims who had immigrated to the U.S. as refugees from Afghanistan when Zaa was a teenager. Despite their intimacy, Zaa hadn’t shared any of this. Every time Deirdre had tried to ask her about her childhood, she had quickly changed the subject.

At the time Deirdre had assumed it was because many people avoid thinking about childhood, but she realized in that moment that she hadn’t even known Zaa was a refugee and felt guilty for not being more persistent. She also felt disappointed that Zaa hadn’t trusted her with this information. Deirdre considered herself open and accepting of all people, so to think that her girlfriend didn’t trust her to accept her and her family was heart breaking.

When they arrived at the house, Zaa pulled a headscarf out of her purse and began putting it on her head. Deirdre saw in Zaa’s eyes a fear she hadn’t seen before. She could see that Zaa was feeling timid and insecure, which was very unlike the strong, confident, self-assured woman Deirdre had known prior to this day.

“Zaa – do your parents know – “

“No, Dee. I’m so sorry, but I haven’t figured out how to tell them yet.”

“Oh Zaa – wow. That’s rough.”

“I know it would break their hearts and I’m afraid they’ll disown me. I will tell them one day, but I just need to figure out how to do it. But Dee – you know I adore you. Would you please pretend to be my friend? I told them I met my new best friend in Rome.”

“Of course, a chroí.” This was Deirdre’s favorite pet name to call Zaa. It meant “my heart” and was what Deirdre’s dad had always called her in Gaelic, a language he carried from his childhood in Ireland. Zaa looked to ensure her parents weren’t watching and leaned in for a quick kiss before she exited the small moving truck.

After spending a few hours conversing over tea while sitting on the floor in the living room, they had packed everything into the moving truck. Zaa’s dad and four brothers sped up the process so they were ready to leave in less than an hour. Zaa’s parents had been so happy that she had met such a ‘good friend’ overseas, but so nervous that their little girl was moving permanently without the protection of a husband.

Zaa had informed Deirdre later that the long and intense conversation they had held in their native Dari was her parents strongly encouraging her to reconsider moving out long-term before marriage. They were worried it would limit her husband options and make her seem too independent. She had assured them she would be fine and that she had made her decision.

Later that evening they had arrived at Deirdre’s quaint four-bedroom, two-bath light blue rambler, inherited from her father. She pulled under the large oak tree in front of concrete path that ran from the front of the house to the mailbox situated next to the sidewalk. As Deirdre parked on the quiet suburban street,

Zaa slowly took off her hijab and looked at Deirdre with tears in her eyes. “I really love you, Dee. Thank you for giving me time to figure out how to tell them.”

Deirdre had straightened Zaa’s gorgeous thick dark brown locks, looked her deep in her tear-filled eyes and told her, “A chroí, I love you so much and I will be with you through this. I am so excited to begin our life here together.”

“Me too, Dee. Me too.” They embraced in a passionate hug, tears on both of their eyes.

They were happy and in love…or so Deirdre thought, until two weeks ago, when she decided to end it.

***

Deirdre walks into the living room from depositing her garbage in the kitchen as she hears the front door lock turning over. She sees Daksh using his key to open the door, being best friends for over a decade, she had long entrusted him with a spare key.

“Hey you!” He says as he locks the door behind him and walks towards her to give her a hug. He embraces her and holds her for a minute, his short and slight frame holding tight to her tall, thin body. “Dee. You know I love you, right?”

“Of course, Daksh.” She gives him a squeeze and lets him go. “How is Ma Amara?” Ma Amara was the name Daksh’ mom gave Dierdre to call her when they were in elementary school and she had started spending a lot of time at their house.

Daksh meandered over to the faded red couch across the living room and plopped down. “Meh, she’s fine. Always the same – ‘Daksh, why aren’t you married yet? You need to find a nice Indian girl to marry.’ You know the drill.” He rolls his eyes and they both chuckle. Daksh’s mom had always been passionate about his love life.

“So how about you…last week you weren’t doing so good. How are you holding up? Have you talked to Zaahirah?” Daksh asks tentatively. Since the breakup Daksh had refused to call Zaa by her nickname and would only use her full name, even though her parents are the only ones who normally use it.

“I don’t know.” Deirdre mumbled. “She’s been calling and texting every day but I can’t bring myself to talk to her. She hurt me so much… but Daksh, she was the love of my life. I can’t just get over it, you know?”

“I know, bae. I know.”

They sit in a companionable silence for a few minutes before Daksh speaks up. “Alright Dee let’s watch this show! I think you are going to love it. It’s a reality tv show – which I know you love! The host interviews people and they tell you about the ways they were betrayed or hurt by someone and then they interview the person who hurt them and then…we vote if we would give them a second chance!”

“Hmm… you know I’ll give any reality show a try.”

“It’s gonna be great. We can focus on other people’s pain instead of our own!” Daksh says with a laugh.

Deirdre laughs bitterly. “I’m in!” Deirdre follows Daksh’ instructions and changes the channel on her tv.

A few minutes later a dramatic swelling of music starts as ‘Second Chances’ flashes on the screen in bold black letters outlined in red. A short highlight reel plays of a handful of people saying phrases like ‘She follows me everywhere.’ ‘She had sex with my best friend.’ and ‘He killed my cat.’ The host, a dashing Latino man in his early 30s, appears on the screen and says in a deep voice with a brilliant smile, ‘What would you do? Would you give them another chance? Cast your votes!’ The music begins to fade and the screen transitions to black before showing the new scene.

It’s a cozy room with a plush two-person couch where an attractive brunette in her early 20s sits, clearly feeling a bit uncomfortable. The host is sitting in a leather chair across from her in a position that looks as if he might be her counselor. There are several cameras in the room and the camera angle transitions regularly between the host, the guest and overviews of the room.

“Hi everyone! I’m your host Dane Wilcox and today we have Anne from Seattle, Washington. She is on the show because she wants some help deciding whether or not to give her boyfriend Riku a second chance. Anne, why don’t you share what happened with you and Riku?”

“Yes, um, well, I was dating Riku. He grew up in Japan and I met him in college. Anyway – I loved him. He was funny and smart and gorgeous.” Her eyes softened as she recalled her feelings. “We had so much fun together. We were dating for about three years and had moved in together. Well one time he had a text come in from someone named Suki. It said, 'I’m looking forward to our next date.' This was when I I found out that he had been meeting with a girl his parents wanted him to marry.”

 “Wow, Anne. That must have been so tough.” The host says compassionately.

“You have no idea. His parents had wanted him to marry a Japanese girl since he was a little boy and he didn’t want to disappoint them and they had been arranging this for a few months now, but he didn’t want to tell me because he didn’t know what to do. I just broke up with him. I couldn’t believe he could lie to me for that long.”

“Wow. I’m so sorry you had to go through that. How long has it been since you’ve seen or talked to him?”

“Two months.”

“Wow, well as you know, the other part of this show is that we bring out the other party to hear their side. Are you ready to bring out Riku now or do you need a minute?”

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” She takes a deep breath and puts her shoulders back.

“Riku, come on in!” Dane hollers at the closed door.

A tall, good-looking Japanese man in his late 20s opens the door, walks confidently into the room and sits on the seat next to Anne. He tries to make eye contact with her, but she keeps a deep focus on the host and avoids eye contact.

“So – Riku, you were behind the door listening to Anne’s experience, what do you have to say for yourself?” Dane asks with a tone of accusation.

“Well, Dane, I first of all need to apologize to Anne.” Riku says in crisp English with a Japanese accent. “I was wrong. I should have been more transparent, but I didn’t want to worry you. I want to make my parents happy, but I love YOU, Anne.”

“All right audience! Be thinking about your votes, we’re going to take a quick break, but it’s time to vote as soon as we get back.” The host interrupts with excitement.

Daksh looks over at Deirdre and sees tears streaming down her pale face. “Dee, bae. Oh.” He stands up and walks to where she sits crying and rubs her back.

“What have I done? I should have given her another chance. She only dated that guy because her parents were pushing her so much and she was afraid of losing her relationship with them.” She cries into her hands.

“No, Dee, you can’t blame yourself. She fucked up. She went on three dates with him and didn’t tell you until you saw a text from her mom asking about the next date. She never told her parents about her relationship with you. This is not your fault.”

“I know, but maybe I didn’t create the space for her to talk to me.” Dee sobs harder. “I need to call her.”

“Bae, you know that all I want is for you to be happy. If you are sure you want to give her another chance, I support you 100%, but I also have your back and if she hurts you again, I will have to murder her.”

Dee stands up and hugs him. “I know, Daksh. You are the best friend I could ever ask for.” Deirdre feels hopeful and excited for the first time in weeks as she picks up her phone to call Zaa.

“Hello?” A shaky voice with a thick accent answers the phone.

A cold sense of dread fills Deirdre. Why was Zaa’s mom answering the phone?

“Yes. Is Zaahirah there?”

“Zaahirah–“ Her voice broke and a sob escaped. “She’s dead.”

Deirdre felt her stomach drop. What? She can’t be dead. She just texted me yesterday.

A new voice takes over. Dierdre thinks it might be one of Zaa’s brothers. He says in a hollow voice, “Deirdre – Zaa committed suicide last night in our parent’s house.

She left a note that says, ‘I know this note may forever disappoint my loved ones, but while I love them, I no longer care. The world must know that Dee O’Connor is the love of my life and if I can’t be with her, I don’t want to be here.'

In shock, Deirdre looks at the last message she received from Zaa, it reads, ‘Dee O’connor, you are the love of my life and I don’t want to live life without you.’

"A chroí..." Deirdre whispered.