A Claw Machine Toy From the Fair Helped Me Uncover the Secret My Husband Was Keeping — Story of the Day

The truth was, I had been terrified of becoming a mother, scared I would not be able to handle it, that I would lose myself.

But Simon had supported me wholeheartedly and kept insisting we could do it, because he wanted a baby more than anything.

And no matter how scared I had been, no matter how hard it got, I had never once regretted having Sophie.

But Simon’s promises to be an equal parent had never come true. The reason? He had wanted a boy.

And we were not planning on having another child. So all the responsibility for Sophie had fallen on my shoulders.

At first, everything had been incredibly hard, but I had eventually come to terms with the fact that Simon simply was not involved.

Until one evening. I was putting Sophie to bed and reading her a story, as always. Suddenly, she interrupted me.

That question froze me.“Sweetheart, of course he loves you. Why would you think he doesn’t?” I asked gently.

“He doesn’t want to play with me or talk to me,” Sophie muttered.

“Baby, Daddy loves you very much, he’s just working a lot and gets tired,” I reassured her.

Jimmy was my best friend’s son, and yes, Simon really did spend a lot of time with him.

I could barely hold back tears and the urge to go punch Simon in the face for making our daughter feel unloved. I hesitated for a long time, unsure what to say, afraid I might mess it up.

“I’ll talk to Dad and ask him to show you how much he loves you, because he really does,” I finally told her and glanced down—Sophie had already fallen asleep.

I sighed heavily, moved her gently to tuck her in, and walked into the living room to confront Simon.

“About what?” he mumbled, confused.

“Sophie just asked me why you don’t love her,” I exclaimed, outraged.

“She’s my daughter. Of course I love her,” he waved me off.

“You don’t pay her any attention. You spend more time with someone else’s kid than with your own daughter,” I accused.

“I want you to actually do something! Tomorrow the fair opens, and we’re going as a family. And you’re going to spend real, quality time with your daughter,” I demanded.

“I’ve got a lot of work tomorrow,” he groaned.

“Then take the damn day off!” I shouted and stormed out of the living room, done listening to his pathetic excuses.

The next day, Simon did take the day off, and we all went to the fair together. I saw how Sophie lit up with joy, running between rides, not knowing which to choose first.

“Oh honey, I’m scared of those. Ask your dad,” I nudged Simon, trying to push him into participating.

“You know he won’t go,” Sophie mumbled, disappointed.

“He will,” I replied and gave Simon a sharp look. “Right, Dad?” I added through gritted teeth.

I watched them from below. I could see Sophie clinging to Simon in fear, and he did not even try to comfort her. My heart ached—it was like he just did not care.

For the rest of the day, I walked around the fair with Sophie while Simon dragged behind us, glued to his stupid phone.

Suddenly, Sophie spotted a claw machine and ran to it, pressing her face against the glass.

“Mom, look at that awesome alien! Win him for me, pleeease!” she begged excitedly.

“No no, I think you’d be better at it,” he mumbled, not looking up from his phone.

I shook my head and stepped up to the machine. I used nine tries, cheered on by Sophie’s hopeful squeals, but the best I managed was a plush bear, on the eighth try.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I don’t think I can get that alien,” I sighed.

“I know, baby. But it’s getting late, and we need to go home. I’m sorry. Maybe we can try again another day,” I whispered.

“Okay,” she muttered, clearly disappointed, and we walked back to the car.

The next day, hoping to cheer her up, I took Sophie back to the fair, I was determined to win that damn alien.

But when we got to the claw machine, it was gone. Sophie immediately burst into tears, so I picked her up to comfort her and went to talk to a teenage worker nearby.

“Excuse me, yesterday there was a pink alien plush in the machine, but it’s gone. Do you happen to have another one?” I asked.

“If it’s not in the machine, then we don’t have it,” the boy muttered without looking up.

“But—”

“Lady, we don’t have it,” he snapped, cutting me off.

“Rude,” I muttered and carried Sophie to the car, grabbing her an ice cream cone on the way to help her feel better.

Finally, he had done something for our daughter. Because on the back seat sat that very same pink alien plush Sophie had wanted so badly.

I decided not to tell her. I wanted that toy to be something she associated with her dad. We stepped inside, and Simon was just heading out.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“Back to work. I only came for lunch,” he replied casually.

“Sophie’s home. Don’t you want to give her something?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Maybe he was saving it for later? Maybe it was supposed to be a surprise? At least, that’s what I hoped.

But when Simon came home that evening, he was empty-handed. I kept waiting for him to give Sophie that damn toy, but it never happened. She went to bed upset.

Once she was asleep, I walked into our bedroom where Simon was lying.

“What alien?” he grumbled.

“The pink one, from the claw machine. The one she wanted so badly,” I clarified.

“What makes you think I was gonna give it to her? Where would I even get that from?” he scoffed.

“Uh… from your car?!” I shot back, frustrated.

“There’s no alien in my car,” he replied flatly.

“Don’t lie. I saw it myself,” I snapped.

“You must’ve imagined it. I never had one,” he shrugged.

“So now you’re gaslighting me?” I snapped.

“Not my fault your brain confuses hope with reality. Now excuse me, I’m tired and I wanna sleep,” he muttered and turned away.

I was this close to packing mine and Sophie’s things and walking out. Better no dad at all than one like him.

A few days had passed since the alien incident. My friend Christine invited us over so Sophie and Jimmy could play together. Of course, Simon could not make it, as usual, so it was just me and Sophie.

Christine and I sat in the kitchen, sipping tea and chatting about our kids while they played in the nursery.

Christine went to the bathroom, and suddenly Sophie came running into the kitchen in tears.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” I asked, alarmed.

“Jimmy has the pink alien,” she sobbed.

“Yes, and he won’t even let me play with it,” she whined.

“I’ll go talk to him,” I reassured her and walked toward the nursery.

Sure enough, Jimmy was sitting there, clutching the same alien toy.

“Wow, that’s a really cool toy you’ve got there. Where did you get it?” I asked with a smile. Kids always loved it when you admired their stuff.

Then his face dropped.

“Oops…” he whispered.

“It’s okay, don’t worry. I’m good at keeping secrets,” I told him gently. “But maybe you could let Sophie play with it a little?”

Jimmy nodded, and I headed back to the kitchen. Christine still had not returned, and Sophie was standing there alone.

“Sweetheart, why don’t you go play with Jimmy for a bit? Maybe he’ll let you play with the alien now,” I encouraged.

I scrolled through her chats, trying to find one with Simon. But his name did not appear anywhere.

Then I noticed a contact saved as “Mine ❤ ️.” I opened the thread and there it was.

They had been arranging meetings, planning times when Sophie and I would be out of the house, exchanging pictures some decent, others not.

Christine walked into the kitchen and saw me holding her phone.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“How does it feel to sleep with my husband?” I fired back.

“How did you find out?” she stammered.

“One toy. The one Sophie wanted so badly. Instead, Simon gave it to Jimmy,” I replied coldly.

“Claire, it’s not what it looks like,” Christine tried to explain.

“I… we’re in love,” she admitted softly.

“Then why the hell didn’t that jerk divorce me first and then start seeing you?” I yelled.

“I asked him, but he said you’d take everything from him,” she murmured.

“Well now I’ll make sure he ends up with nothing. And you two can rot together,” I spat and stormed out.

I grabbed Sophie from the nursery, and we got in the car.

“Mom, where are we going?” she asked.

“We’re gonna find you that alien,” I answered firmly.

“Yay!” Sophie squealed.

While we drove from toy store to toy store, I also called my lawyer and asked him to prepare the divorce papers.

Not a single store had that damn toy. So we went back to the fair. The first worker I saw was that same teenage boy.

“Hi, I came here a few days ago asking about the pink alien plush,” I said politely.

“We still don’t have it,” he replied flatly.

I was done being polite. I wasn’t in the mood to tolerate some bratty teenager. “Listen to me,” I growled, stepping closer. “You’re gonna go to the back and check for that damn alien. And if you don’t, I’ll go to management and have them do it. If you can’t handle such a simple task, maybe they’ll find someone who can.”

Fifteen minutes later, he returned with a pink alien plush even bigger than the one we had tried to win.

“Here you go,” he muttered and handed it to Sophie. She jumped up and down with joy.

“How much do I owe you?” I asked.

“Nothing. Just please don’t come back,” he said nervously and walked away.

Sophie played with her new toy the entire drive home, beaming with happiness. Meanwhile, I flipped through the divorce papers I had picked up from my lawyer.

“Divorce papers,” I said sharply. “I assume your girlfriend told you I found out. And trust me, I’m gonna take everything and make sure you’re paying child support.”

“Don’t do this,” Simon begged.

“I could’ve tolerated you being a bad husband. But I won’t tolerate you being a bad father,” I said calmly. “Now get out.”

“Get. Out,” I repeated.

“You stupid witch!” Simon shouted and slammed the door behind him.

I went to Sophie’s room to check if she had woken up from the yelling. But she was sleeping peacefully, hugging her alien plush. I knew we were going to be okay. It was me and Sophie against the world.

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