THE HOTEL RECEIPT IN HIS COAT

Dear Delyara, I found a hotel receipt in my husband’s coat pocket. Tuesday night. One room. Two breakfasts. He told me he had been working late. The receipt has been inside my wallet for eleven days. I carry it everywhere—school pickup, grocery store, church, even bed when I forget to remove my jeans. I have not confronted him. Instead, I have become a detective inside my own marriage. I study the angle of his phone. I notice when he showers. I listen for hesitation when he says a woman’s name. I compare the mileage on his car to places he claims he went. Yesterday he kissed my forehead and asked whether I was feeling okay. I said I was tired. We have three children. A mortgage. His mother lives in our basement. My oldest has college interviews next month. The receipt is beginning to tear along the fold because I keep opening it. I don’t know whether I’m afraid he is cheating or afraid that knowing for certain would force me to become someone I’m not ready to be.