All He Did Was Step Back Novels & Stories

A pause. Too long. Then he stepped back. Turned. And walked out. But the look in his eyes— said one thing clearly. He was already too involved.

he roughly let go of my aching jaw and stepped back. "Andiamo soldati. Our work here is done," And then, everything went black. To be continued..!

" After saying that it went quiet for a few seconds... I listened to my heart beat for a bit until I heard the footsteps again. They walked further and further away until I couldn't hear them anymore. Great! This was the biggest stepback I have ever taken. I was literally 98 steps forward but I took 90 back. I hope I don't lose the trust we already built. Because in honesty, I think we were doing fine. I'd hate having to kill her father alone.

“I did what I did because—” But Atlas cut me off. His eyes widened with fear, and I saw him slowly start to step backward. “I have to go,” he interjected hastily, his voice tight with unease. He didn’t want to hear the rest. He didn’t want me to finish. It was clear he had already figured out what I was about to say, and he was afraid of confronting it.

I wanted to end things properly and leave some good memories behind. But I had overestimated my place in his life. He didn't show up until closing time. I sent messages asking where he was, but he didn't reply. The night was cool, and the sky seemed to mock me by letting a light rain fall. I didn't run or hide. Step by step, I walked home. Just like the past eight years, every step felt so hard. Half an hour later, I got home, my forehead burning, my throat sore. Rolf wasn't back, but I was used to it. I just collapsed and fell asleep.

His jaw is clenched, and he took a step back, re-buckling his belt with a deliberate slowness that felt like a slap across my face. The sound of his belt buckling back was like a door slamming in my face. I looked pathetic as I realized what I had almost done - what I had wanted to do. I took a step back, trying to put some distance between us, but my legs felt like lead, refusing to cooperate. He watched me, his expression unreadable, his eyes giving nothing away. The silence stretched between us, thick and heavy, until I couldn't take it anymore.

He didn't step back. "I'll see you out," he said. "Okay." He didn't say sorry. He didn't say forget you saw that. He didn't say anything at all. He just gestured at the door and I walked through it because my body has only one setting in these situations, which is follow the man and overthink later.

When he was done, he stepped back and gave a single nod. “Begin.” And just like that, they launched.

He stepped back, the distance returning like it had always been there. “We’re going back,” he said. I didn’t argue. But as I turned, one thing stayed clear in my mind. This wasn’t over. Not even close.

I swallowed hard, every nerve in my body telling me to move, to take a step back. But I didn’t. Because stepping back meant surrender. And I refused to let him see how badly he was affecting me. “So,” he murmured, closing the distance between us, “you think we don’t need her?” With each step he took, the tension between us thickened. I suddenly forgot how to breathe. “You said—” I did take a step back this time. Then another. And another. Until my back hit the wall. My stomach dropped. Jaime let out a slow, amused smile.