You could always tell which women he'd slept with. They'd look at you like you were pathetic—like they were better. And you couldn't even confront him about it, because he'd just call you insecure.
You sat at the bar, sneaking drinks past your limit. You were only allowed so many, but tonight? Tonight, you needed to drink the pain away.
A group of women stood off to the side of the club, staring you down. You met their gaze and rolled your eyes.
"They're the pathetic ones," you muttered under your breath.
Then, you felt a light tap on your shoulder.
"Excuse me, ma'am."
You turned around slowly. "Yes?"
"Are you the Joker's girlfriend?" she asked, glancing back at her group. You could see it in her eyes—she didn't want an answer. She wanted to humiliate you.
"No," you said with a smile, holding up your hand so the massive diamond on your finger caught the light. "I'm his wife."
She scoffed. "So? He still cheats on you."
You rolled your eyes and turned back to the bar, lifting your drink.
"I've heard it all before."
"I don't see why you're so confident. You're ugly, and not even skinny."
Her friends burst into laughter. You felt your stomach drop, the sting hitting deeper than you'd admit.
"And can't you tell?" she continued, sneering. "He only fucks girls who look like her. You don't. You're a charity case."
Your blood boiled. The liquor burned through your veins. Who the fuck was she to come at you like that?
"Who the fuck are you talking to?" you snapped, spinning around on your stool. "If you haven't noticed, he only fucked you because you're easy. You're sitting here bragging, but you forgot one thing—he only did it once. Then he left."
Her mouth dropped open, stunned. She hadn't expected you to bite back.
But you weren't finished.
You stood up, stepping into her space.
"I live with him. I sleep in his bed every night. And guess what? He makes love to me every night. That's the difference between you and me. You're a one-night stand. I'm forever. Don't get it twisted."
She stared at you, trying to come up with something—anything—to say.
"You'll never be her."
You laughed, shaking your head, and then—without thinking—you grabbed the bottle of liquor beside you and cracked it over her head.
It wasn't you. It was the liquor.
"What the fuck?!" she screamed. "Are you fucking crazy?!"
"I don't know," you said, laughing. "I might be."
She swung on you, and just like that, fists flew. Screams echoed through the club, but you didn't care. Not one bit. You were locked in. Then, suddenly, a pair of strong arms grabbed you and threw you over a shoulder.
As you were carried off, you held up a handful of her hair, grinning.
"Look who's the charity case now, bitch!"
You were finally put down—and your heart dropped. It was him. Your lover. Your Joker.
Shit.
He closed the office door behind him with a sharp click.
"What the fuck is wrong with you, huh?" he snapped.
"She came at me first—called me a charity case. Said you only fuck girls who look like her."
"Like who?" he asked, eyes narrowing.
"Like Harley," you whispered. Your voice cracked. Tears brimmed in your eyes. "I'll never be her."
He stared at you for a long second before the anger exploded.
"Are you fucking serious right now?" he growled. "I walked out of a million-dollar deal because you got sensitive? Grow the fuck up."
"But she started it!" you cried, the pain spilling out.
"I don't give a fuck!" he shouted. "You just cost me a lot of money."
"Fuck you and your stupid money, J!" you spat, storming toward the door. But before your hand even touched the knob, he grabbed your arm and yanked you back.
"Watch your fucking mouth," he hissed through gritted teeth.
"Or what, J? You gonna hit me again? Show me your toys, right? Give me another scar 'cause I deserve it? Or better yet, go cheat again—since you love doing that one."
He grinned darkly. "Watch it, baby. I might kill ya."
"Too late, J," you said, yanking your arm free. "I'm already dead."
You walked out.
He didn't stop you.
He just stood there, stunned.
Your words echoed in his mind.
Too late. I'm already dead.
His grin faded. His chest tightened. That was the moment he realized it—he had killed you without laying a single hand on you. Killed your light. Killed your love.
He had lost his girl.
And there was nothing he could do about it.
"Fuck!"
