And When I Try To Walk Away Novels & Stories

Like I wasn’t a problem to be solved. I exhaled slowly, trying to shake it off. “Whatever,” I muttered. But my feet didn’t move right away. For some reason, walking away felt heavier than it should have. And I hated that I couldn’t figure out why.

Her voice telling me to be strong. To endure. To survive. I had watched her fade. Watched her disappear slowly. Watched the world move on like she had never been there. Something inside me snapped. I should walk away. That thought came. Clear. Strong. Walk away. Do not do this. If you do this, everything will get worse. They will use it against you. They will turn it into proof that you do not belong. Walk away. Leave. Right now. I could. I should.

“I promise.” I nod, words failing me, then turn to walk away. I can’t help but feel like I’m leaving a piece of my heart behind.

"Riley—" "Stop" I backed away. "Just… stop. I can’t do this. Whatever you’re trying to do, count me out of it" I didn’t let him respond and walked away.

— Go away, please! I know that he has been suffering too much, and at this moment I have nothing to do, or say, so I come to the conclusion that it is better to leave. I walk past him, stare at him one last time, but he turns his face away, and this makes me sadder. I try to hold back the tears, but they are inevitable.

I had walked away once. And I would never, never, go back.

He pushed me to the side and walked away while I just stood there trying to understand what had just happened.

My legs felt shaky when I stood up, but I would not spend the whole day crying and puffing for someone who doesn’t give a damn about me. The best thing I can do is just to walk away.

“You don’t get to throw me at another man and still look hurt when I walk away.” Then I left.

“Maybe I was meant to be a body, not a mother, and a mistake, not a memory.” He flinches slightly, and that’s when I know I’ve gone too far. But I can’t take it back. I can’t stop. “I should go,” I say, grabbing my bag. “Before this turns into another fight that fixes nothing.” He stands too, close enough that I can feel the warmth of his breath against my temple. “You think walking away will make it better?” “It’s the only thing that’ll stop it from hurting worse,” I whisper. He nods slowly. His voice drops, almost breaking. “Then walk.”