Beyond The lights…. Part 2
Dante tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his jaw flexing as he glanced at her, then back at the road. The city lights blurred past them, but inside the car, everything felt still—heavy.
“A lot?” he repeated. “You been carrying all that and ain’t say nothing to me?”
Yalissa let out a quiet laugh, but there was no humor in it. Just exhaustion.
“What was I supposed to say, Dante?” she asked, still staring out the window. “That I’ve been drowning right next to you? That every time I tried to open my mouth, it felt pointless?”
“That’s not fair,” he shot back. “You don’t get to shut down and then act like I wasn’t there.”
She finally turned her head, eyes sharp now, cutting through him.
“You weren’t,” she said simply.
The words hit harder than yelling ever could.
Dante slowed the car slightly, his brows pulling together. “So what, I’ve just been… what? Imagining us?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “You’ve been comfortable. There’s a difference.”
Silence crept back in, thicker this time.
Yalissa leaned her head against the window, her voice softer now.
“You ever feel like you’re playing a role in your own life?” she asked. “Like… you’re just going through motions, smiling when you’re supposed to, loving when it’s convenient?”
Dante didn’t answer right away.
“I thought breaking those glasses would make me feel something,” she continued. “Relief. Release. Something. But I felt the same. Empty.”
Dante exhaled slowly. “So this is deeper than me.”
“It always was,” she admitted. “You just never noticed.”
That one stung.
He drove a little further before finally pulling over on a quiet overlook. The city stretched beneath them, glowing, alive—everything she didn’t feel.
He turned the car off.
“Look at me,” he said.
She didn’t move.
“Yalissa.”
This time, she did. Her eyes met his, but there was something distant in them… like she was already halfway gone.
“What are you not telling me?” he asked, quieter now.
She hesitated.
And for the first time all night… she looked unsure.
Then she reached into her bag.
Dante’s eyes followed her hand as she pulled out a small envelope—worn at the edges, like it had been opened and closed too many times.
“I wasn’t just angry tonight,” she said.
She handed it to him.
“I found this.”
Dante frowned, taking it slowly. The moment he saw the handwriting on the front… his expression changed.
Confusion.
Then recognition.
Then something close to panic.
Yalissa watched him carefully.
“Go ahead,” she said. “Open it.”




























































































