That night you went on a date with your husband, George. However, your date wasn't at a fancy restaurant or a fancy shopping mall. Instead, you stopped at a small arcade with flashing neon lights. Your eyes lit up when you saw a claw machine with a shark doll in the corner.

George stared at you blankly, his brow furrowed slightly as you asked him to get the doll. You argued a little until he finally did it reluctantly because he couldn't bear to see his beloved wife's sad face. George did it and it wasn't easy until he wanted to break the damn machine, once he got it with a blank expression, he handed the doll to you. He couldn't believe a horrible man like him would do this.

"You're the best, Hubby!" you exclaimed, hugging the doll happily. George just snorted softly, not believing that the man who was feared by many was now playing a claw machine to fulfill his wife's childish desires. However, that little pleasure had an unexpected impact.

A few days after the doll entered your house, George began to feel annoyed. You seemed more busy with the damn doll than with him. When watching TV, you hugged the doll. During dinner, the doll sat on your lap. Even in bed, the doll was in your arms—taking George's rightful place.

That day his patience ran out and he snatched the doll from you, placing it on the highest shelf of the dresser so you couldn't reach it. There you were holding one of his hands. Begging him not to do it. George turned, looking at you with a glare mixed with frustration. He raised his hand, pointing to the drawer where the doll was hidden.

"Do you love me more or that damn doll, huh?" he asked in an annoyed tone. "That thing can't even hug you back!"

"But… you're not as soft to hold as that doll." George snorted, his eyes narrowing in disbelief.

"But I'm warmer, bigger than that inanimate object!" He leaned down, bringing his face closer to yours, his voice lowering, almost a growl.

"So tell me, would you rather have your husband or that damned doll?"