But I screwed up.

In my drunken haze, I gave the driver her address and sent her home alone, then took another cab myself.

I forgot her husband was home, unlike mine who was away on business.

I passed out as soon as I got home, not thinking twice about it.

Next morning, I found dozens of missed calls from Delilah.

When I called back, she ripped into me.

"You totally screwed me over! Did you forget I'm married? I was covered in hickeys - were you trying to get me kicked out so I'd end up homeless like you?"

I frowned and shot back, "Look, I was drunk and messed up, but I just gave the driver the neighborhood address. Weren't you the one who decided where to go from there?"

Though I'd helped her into the cab, she could still walk and answer basic questions, so I figured she could handle the short walk from the entrance to her house. I didn't think I needed to babysit her.

"I... I wasn't thinking straight..."

Delilah knew we were both wasted and couldn't really blame each other. The urgent issue was dealing with the gossip.

Turns out, she never made it home that night. She got distracted by a stray cat, passed out on a bench, and woke up freezing cold. Even cold medicine couldn't help her stuffed-up nose.

"So what's happening now?" I asked.

Delilah explained that when she woke up, most of the hickeys had faded, but she still had some bruises. Looking like a total mess, she quickly checked into a nearby hotel to clean up.

Her husband had been up all night working on company documents, so he hadn't noticed her absence until morning. That's when he called to question her whereabouts.

She made up a story about partying at a bar with just me, saying we crashed at a hotel afterward - and I could vouch for her.