What happens in Vegas

24| Harry

Chapter 24: Harry (Noah's POV)

"Your turn," I smirked, sipping my drink. 

"Okay, what do you wanna know?" she asked, leaning forward, pressing her elbows into the table. 

"You were with him on and off for two years, right?" I asked. She nodded in response. "I don't believe you when you say it fizzled out," I said hesitantly, "Is that really what happened?" 

Her smile faltered and she shifted in her seat, putting her hands in her lap. "You don't think I told you the truth?" she asked. 

"That's not what I'm saying, I just don't think it only fizzled out. I could be wrong but you tell me," I shrugged. 

"Why do you think it didn't just fizzle out?" She narrowed her eyes at me. 

"Because if someone likes you, they can't really stop. That's what I think," I answered. 

"It didn't just fizzle out, I told you there was more to it." 

"You told me you never really liked him enough. You don't have to tell me, Bella. Just tell me you don't want to," I explained. 

"I just don't like talking about it. You told me about your last relationship, it's only fair if I tell you about mine. And anyway, this whole conversation was my idea. Kind of regretting it right now, but okay," she chuckled. "Hmm, you're right. It didn't just fizzle out. He just um- he-" she sighed, "He wasn't very nice to me."

"No?" 

"Mm-mm," she shook her head, "A little too possessive, too demanding... I couldn't take it after a certain point, I left him." I watched her with a scrutinizing gaze. She's not telling me something. 

"Bella, you don't have to-" 

"He was a little abusive. I don't know if that's the word though, I-" she huffed, running her hand through her hair. "Never laid a finger on me, intentionally." I raised my eyebrows at her. "Grabbed my wrist a few times, my arm, I don't- Jesus, I don't know, he was a little more verbally abusive. I just couldn't-" 

"It's okay." I grabbed her hand out of instinct, before I could even comprehend it. "Bella, you don't have to," I shook my head. 

"I have to tell someone, I want it to be you, just give me a second to get it together," she mumbled, squeezing my hand tightly. We fell into silence for a few minutes until she inhaled and exhaled deeply. 

"He was a fucking asshole," she huffed, "I hated him always with every single bone in my body. Yes, I liked him at first, yes, everything went great. He became abusive. I don't like saying that, I hate saying that. But it's true. Maybe not physically, but verbally? Mentally? 

I was living in hell for those two years. Out of those two years, we were probably together, give or take, for no more than eight months. Each little break we took was like a taste of freedom. I just told him to fuck off after that and go to hell, does that make sense?" 

I chuckled at her bluntness. She was so angry and never vented it out. "It makes sense," I nodded. 

She groaned, pushing her now empty plate aside and putting her head down on the table. I cleared my throat before standing up and walking over to her. I kneeled beside her chair and ran my fingers through her hair for a minute. I kissed her head before speaking up, "Hey," I whispered. 

She tilted her head so she was looking at me, her cheek resting on her arms under her. 

"Don't think so much about it. I hate that it happened to you, but the time's gone, okay? Fuck him," I scoffed.