Regret In Your Tears… part 1
Girl, have you seen Dante?”
Kiyanne didn’t answer right away. In the background, I could hear the crowd getting louder, the announcer testing the mic. My stomach twisted.
“Kiyanne?” I pressed.
“I… I haven’t seen him since earlier,” she said. “Like, earlier earlier.”
My chest tightened. “What do you mean? He’s supposed to be warming up.”
“That’s the thing,” she said. “He never came back out.”
I stood up slowly, my legs weak, scanning the sidelines, the bench, the tunnel to the locker rooms. Empty. His jersey wasn’t draped over a chair. His water bottle wasn’t there. Nothing that said Dante was here.
“He wouldn’t just disappear,” I said, my voice cracking. “He wouldn’t do that.”
“I thought maybe he was with you,” Kiyanne admitted. “Then I saw you in the stands.”
A cold wave washed over me. Around us, the gym buzzed with excitement, oblivious. The clock started counting down to tip-off.
I called him again. Straight to voicemail.
That’s when the panic really hit.
I noticed Moranda across the gym, standing near the exit, looking around like she was waiting for someone—or like she already knew something the rest of us didn’t.
“Kiyanne,” I whispered, “something’s wrong.”
The lights dimmed slightly as the announcer called the teams to the floor.
Everyone ran out.
Everyone except Dante.
Mariah’s regret came fast and sharp, settling in her chest like a weight she couldn’t breathe around.
Why did I argue with him?
The questions wouldn’t stop.
What if the fight earlier had pushed him over the edge? What if he’d already been overwhelmed and she’d missed it—missed him—too busy standing her ground to notice he was cracking?
Her mind replayed the argument on a cruel loop. Her tone. Her words. The way she’d walked away first.
What if he didn’t mentally feel like playing because of me?
What if the pressure, the expectations, the crowd—and their fight—had been too much all at once?
She squeezed her eyes shut, her heart racing.
Dante loved basketball. He never missed a game. Not for a cold, not for family drama, not for anything. So why this one?
Unless something inside him had finally gone quiet.
She looked back toward the tunnel again, half-expecting him to appear, head down, hoodie pulled low, ready to apologize and say he just needed a minute.
But nothing.
The buzzer sounded. The crowd roared.
Mariah’s stomach dropped.
This wasn’t him being late.
This felt like him vanishing—and the worst part was the thought that maybe, just maybe, she’d been the last straw before he disappeared.
She kept calling. Over and over.
Ring. Voicemail.
Ring. Voicemail.
Her thumb hovered, then tapped again, like maybe persistence alone could pull him back into existence.
“Pick up,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Dante, please.”
No response.
Her heart began to race uncontrollably, each beat louder than the gym around her. The crowd cheered, the buzzer blared, sneakers squeaked against the floor—but all of it felt distant, muffled, like she was underwater.
This isn’t normal.
Her breathing grew shallow. She pressed her phone to her chest, trying to steady herself, but her hands were shaking too badly.
What if something happened to him?
What if he left because he couldn’t face her after the argument?
What if he needed her and she wasn’t there?
Her mind spiraled faster with every unanswered call.
She stood up abruptly, nearly knocking her knees into the bleacher in front of her. Her vision blurred as panic finally took hold, sharp and consuming.
“Kiyanne,” she said breathlessly, gripping her arm when she spotted her nearby. “He’s not answering. He’s not answering at all.”
The realization hit her all at once, stealing the air from her lungs.
Dante wasn’t just ignoring her.
He was gone—and no one knew where.
Reading this intense moment where Dante disappears amidst a tense argument really resonated with me. I've experienced similar feelings of regret and panic when someone close to me suddenly withdrew without explanation. It's hard to shake the thought that maybe our words or actions pushed them too far. The story highlights how important it is to recognize signs when someone might be mentally overwhelmed—even if they seem strong or passionate like Dante with basketball. Sometimes, people mask their struggles until an incident causes them to retreat completely. If you’ve ever felt the weight of unanswered calls or the fear of losing someone unexpectedly, this narrative captures that helplessness perfectly. Moreover, the setting of a basketball game adds a relatable tension: the pressure to perform in front of a crowd while dealing with personal issues can be overwhelming. In real life, I've noticed how athletes or anyone under public scrutiny can suffer silently. It reminds me how vital support systems and open communication are, especially during conflicts. Mariah’s relentless calling and her spiraling thoughts show the deep emotional impact such moments have. From a broader perspective, this story is a poignant reminder that we should be mindful of those around us and the potential signs of distress. Whether it’s a close friend, family member, or partner, understanding and empathy can sometimes prevent these painful disappearances. The regret that Mariah feels is a universal emotion many of us share when we realize we might have missed an opportunity to help someone before it’s too late. Lastly, the theme behind the phrase ‘‘Regret In Your Tears’’ captures the raw vulnerability of grappling with guilt and uncertainty, making this part of the story compelling. I’m eager to see how the narrative unfolds and what lessons Mariah—and we readers—take from this emotional journey.
WHERE HAS DANTE GONE....