A fun day at the fair turned into something unforgettable. A bright pink toy caught my daughter’s attention, but it was I who ended up uncovering a painful truth. I never expected a simple alien plush to expose a lie quietly fracturing our family.
Why do some men think parenting is only a woman’s job? When Simon and I married and planned to have a child, he promised to share the responsibilities equally.
Truthfully, I had been terrified of becoming a mom, worried I wouldn’t manage and might lose myself in the process. But Simon supported me completely, insisting we could handle it because he wanted a child just as much.
No matter my fears or hardships, I never regretted having Sophie. She was almost six, and every day I loved her more, even when I thought I couldn’t possibly love her more.
But Simon’s promise to be an equal parent never came true. The reason? He had wanted a boy. Since we weren’t planning more children, I was left shouldering all the responsibility.
At first, I struggled but accepted Simon’s detachment—until one night when Sophie asked, “Mom, why doesn’t Dad love me?”
Her question stopped me cold.
“Of course he loves you, sweetheart. Why would you think otherwise?” I asked softly.
“He doesn’t want to play or talk to me,” she said quietly.
“Daddy loves you. He’s just tired from work,” I reassured her.
“That’s not true! I saw him playing with Jimmy!” she blurted.
Jimmy was my best friend’s son, and yes, Simon did spend much time with him.
I fought back tears and anger, unsure how to respond.
“I’ll talk to Dad and ask him to show you he loves you,” I promised, though Sophie had already fallen asleep.
Later, I confronted Simon.
“You need to do something,” I said sharply.
“What about?” he asked.
“Sophie asked why you don’t love her,” I said, frustrated.
“She’s my daughter. Of course I love her,” he shrugged.
“But you ignore her and spend more time with someone else’s kid,” I accused.
“Want me to nag you again?” he scoffed.
“No. Tomorrow, the fair opens, and we’re going as a family. You’ll spend real time with Sophie,” I insisted.
“I have work,” he complained.
“Then take the day off!” I snapped and walked away.
He did take the day off, and we went to the fair. Sophie was thrilled, bouncing between rides.
“Mom, I want to ride the rollercoaster!” she said excitedly.
“I’m scared of those. Ask your dad,” I said.
Sophie muttered, “He won’t go.”
“He will,” I said, glaring at Simon.
He muttered, “Yeah, I’ll go,” took Sophie’s hand, and led her there.
I watched, but Simon barely comforted Sophie when she clung to him. He seemed indifferent.
The rest of the day, Simon trailed behind, glued to his phone.
Then Sophie spotted a claw machine and begged, “Mom, win me that pink alien, please!”
“Maybe Dad wants to win it?” I suggested.
“No, you’re better at it,” Simon mumbled without looking up.
I tried nine times, cheered on by Sophie, but only won a teddy bear.
“I’m sorry, sweetie. I can’t get the alien,” I said.
“I really wanted it,” Sophie said sadly.
“We’ll try again,” I whispered, and we left.
The next day, I took Sophie back, determined to win it.
But the alien was gone. Sophie cried. I asked a worker if they had another, but he said no and was rude.
On the way home, I noticed the pink alien in Simon’s car. I smiled, thinking he’d finally done something for Sophie.
But when I asked why he hadn’t given it to her, he denied it, saying I imagined it.
I was starting to lose my mind.
Then, at my friend’s house, I saw Jimmy holding the same pink alien. When I asked where he got it, Jimmy said Simon gave it to him—if he promised not to tell anyone Simon was secretly visiting his mom.
My heart sank.
I confronted my friend Christine after discovering messages between her and Simon, revealing their affair.
I was furious and devastated.
I grabbed Sophie, promising to find her that toy, and started divorce proceedings.
After searching every store, we returned to the fair. I demanded the teen worker check the back room, and he returned with the alien.
Sophie was overjoyed, playing with it all the way home.
When Simon came back, I threw the divorce papers at him.
“I’ll make sure you pay child support,” I warned.
He begged, but I stood firm.
After everything, I knew it was just Sophie and me against the world — and we’d be okay.