The day my ex-husband, Tom, showed up with a huge rocking horse for our son, Jake, I knew something was up. Tom wasn’t exactly known for selfless gifts, especially not for our seven-year-old. He stood on my porch, flashing a smug smile as he presented the toy like it was a grand prize. “Jake’s gonna flip for this,” he said, his voice too cheerful to trust. I nodded, trying to hide my suspicion, but my instincts screamed that this was more than just a present. I had no idea how right I was.
Jake was playing upstairs when Tom arrived, so I let him lug the horse into the living room. He called out to Jake, his voice full of fake excitement. “Buddy, come check out what I got you!” Jake bounded downstairs, his face lighting up at the sight of the wooden horse. I forced a smile, but I was bracing for the catch. Sure enough, after a few minutes of Jake’s delighted squeals, Tom’s grin faded. “Sorry, pal, I can’t stay for our movie night,” he said, ruffling Jake’s hair. “Work’s calling.” Jake’s shoulders slumped, and I rolled my eyes. Same old Tom, using gifts to soften his letdowns.
Jake loved that rocking horse, riding it every chance he got. His laughter filled the house, and for a while, I almost forgot my unease. But then I started hearing a strange noise—a soft clicking, like something was stuck inside the toy. At first, I thought it was just the horse’s mechanics. But the sound got louder, more noticeable, until it was impossible to ignore. One night, when Jake was fast asleep, I heard it again, sharp and eerie, coming from his room. Grabbing a flashlight, I crept down the hall, determined to get to the bottom of it.
In Jake’s room, the rocking horse sat still, but the clicking noise made my skin crawl. I knelt beside it, shining my light under the base. My fingers found a small, hidden door. With a tug, I opened it, and something small fell out—a voice recorder. My heart sank as I realized what it was. Tom had hidden it there, probably to record me and use it against me in our custody fight. The thought of him using Jake’s favorite toy for something so sneaky made my blood boil. I wasn’t going to let this slide.
I paced the kitchen, gripping the recorder, my mind racing. What had I said near that horse? Could Tom twist my words to make me seem unfit? Furious but determined, I called my lawyer, Lisa, who picked up right away. “Tom planted a recorder in Jake’s rocking horse,” I said, my voice trembling. Lisa’s calm voice cut through my panic. “That’s illegal and won’t hold up in court,” she said. “Let’s make this work in your favor.” Her words lit a spark in me. I was going to outsmart Tom.
I held the recorder and spoke clearly into it. “You’re caught, Tom. My lawyer’s on to you.” Then I got creative. I set the recorder by the radio, letting it capture hours of random talk shows and ads—nothing Tom could use. When I was done, I carefully put it back in the horse. When Tom visited next, I kept my cool, watching as he eyed the horse. “Jake, show Daddy your rocking skills!” I said brightly. Jake hopped on, and I saw Tom discreetly check the horse, likely grabbing his device. I hid my smile, knowing he’d find nothing but useless noise.
Tom never mentioned the recorder, and his silence told me I’d won. I felt a rush of triumph—I’d protected Jake and turned Tom’s scheme against him. As I watched Jake play, the rocking horse now just a toy again, I knew I’d do whatever it took to keep my son safe. Tom could try his tricks, but I was ready for him, every step of the way.
