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Gonorrhea make you think otherwise.”
    A smile tugged at his mouth at the nickname. “I’m not. It isn’t a big deal. I’ll rewrite it and get her off my back.” Before she could needle him further, he asked, “What was it you wanted to tell me, anyway?”
    Vivian’s expression sobered right up. “I had a talk with Mick last night.”
    Archer’s heart sank.“And?”
    “And…he’s agreed to get in to see a therapist. Start some anger management classes.” She worried at the inside of her lower lip. “He really wants me back, apologized over and over…”
    “Viv.”
    “…and I’d like to give it a try.”
    Why? Why why why? After everything Mickey put her through, after hitting her— repeatedly —after breaking her spirit a little more with every fight, why did she want to go back?
    His muscles trembled like tightly wound springs and it was all he could do to keep from knocking their table aside, grabbing Vivian, and shaking her.
    “Is staying with me really that bad?” He meant it as a joke. Sort of. Not really. Vivian didn’t take it as one. Her expression softened.
    “You know it’s not that. You’ve been great to me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You’re my best friend, you make everything better… He could recite everything she would say by heart.
    He felt sick.
    Vivian sighed, looking down at her hands. “I just…really like Mick, you know? And I feel like I owe it to him…” Her voice trailed off.
    “You don’t owe him a fucking thing.” He stood abruptly, sending his chair toppling backward and then clattering on the floor. Everyone in the café stilled. Archer didn’t care. Let them watch. “You owe him nothing, Vivian. Nothing. Don’t ever let him make you think that! You don’t owe anyone in this world a damned thing.” Heat coursed from his chest to the tips of every nerve in his body.
    Vivian sat there, eyes wide. She didn’t move when Archer slammed his way out the front doors and headed down the street.
    Betrayed . That was how he felt. Why would she do this? After everything he tried to do for her, after he opened his home to her, gave her anything she needed. Was she too stupid to see the only guy in her life who ever really cared about her was him?
    “Archer? Archer wait. ”
    Her heeled boots clicked on the boardwalk behind him. Archer had no interest in stopping, but—damn her—he did. He stopped, but he didn’t turn around.
    Vivian halted behind him, breathless. “I’m really sorry, okay? I knew you wouldn’t be happy…”
    Archer whirled to face her. “Happy? Why in the world would I be happy ?”
    She wet her lips, grasping for words. “Because it’s something really important to me. I love Mick, so if I can make it work then I’m damned well going to try.”
    He snorted and didn’t bothering trying to hide how far back his eyes rolled. “ You’re going to try. He beats the shit out of you, and you’re the one that has to make it better. Fantastic.”
    Her face flushed. “You’re being a jerk. Aren’t you supposed to be my best friend?”
    Only when it was convenient for her. The comment grated on him in all the wrong ways. He shoved his face a few inches from hers.
    “I always remember that,” he said. “Do you ?”
    Vivian’s eyes widened, looking stricken.
    He didn’t care to wait for an answer. This argument wouldn’t end like the others always did, with Vivian in tears and him apologizing profusely for upsetting her. It wasn’t his fault. It was never his fault. All he wanted was her happiness, and she was so determined to be miserable.
    He stormed down the boardwalk and this time, Viv didn’t follow.
    Her stuff was already gone by the time he got home. She left a note on the counter, written in her small, delicate writing:

Thank you for letting me stay. I miss you already. I’m sorry.
Love you,
Viv

    Love you.
    Miss you.
    Archer doubted that. He balled up the paper and sent it sailing into the trashcan. How was he