Putting his shoes on in the back of the taxi cab, his shirt still in his hand, he gave the cabbie directions to his townhouse.
His knee still hurt from bumping it on the nightstand in his haste to escape Josie’s apartment.

His lips still bleeding from slapping his hand over his mouth too hard so he didn’t curse out loud again and alert Josie to his quick get away.
Still reeling from too much Tequila, he was disheveled.
What the cab driver thought of his appearance mattered less to him than what Josie would say if she ever saw him again. He hoped that day never arrived.

He also hoped his wife never discovered the affair. It was over now so he wouldn’t need to cover up and lie anymore.

The taxi stopped outside his townhouse. Reaching in his denim jeans back pocket for his wallet he cursed under his breath.
His wallet was still on that dreaded nightstand in Josie’s bedroom.
He would have to go back.