Better a Dog Than a Husband Like You
Chapter 3
When I unlocked my phone, a message popped up from Chloe:
The unloved one is always the third wheel.
A moment later, my phone rang. It was Andrew:
“Rachel Moore, Dad wants us to go back to the Family Estate. Get ready, I’ll pick you up later.”
“Alright.”
I ordered all the imported health supplements I had bought abroad to be delivered, waiting for Andrew to arrive.
But instead, Chloe sat smugly in the passenger seat, looking frail as she told me, “Sister, I get carsick. Could you sit in the back?”
I didn’t reply, only looked at Andrew. He avoided my eyes, cleared his throat, and said,
“Something came up with work, so I brought Chloe along.”
“Besides, Chloe isn’t an outsider.”
Indeed, Chloe was never treated as an outsider.
Even before our marriage, she often accompanied Andrew to public events. People mistook her for his fiancée, and he never once corrected them.
Over time, everyone believed Chloe was his bride-to-be.
And Andrew let them.
Even after our wedding, pressured by Mr. Smith, Andrew only posted online:
“Not a lover, but closer than one.”
Fearing our marriage might be cold, Mr. Smith often summoned us back to the Family Estate to stay a few days.
But he didn’t know—we had never shared the same bed.
One call from Chloe, and Andrew would climb walls and break his leg just to get to her.
Meanwhile, one night I burned with fever until dawn before a servant discovered me.
At the estate, Chloe eagerly presented the supplements I had bought to Mr. Smith, smiling brightly:
“Mr. Smith, these are for you. Please take them, they’ll be good for your health.”
Mr. Smith only nodded.
Chloe’s smile faltered. She knew Mr. Smith was generous; whenever Andrew and I visited, he always received lavish gifts.
But this time, he barely acknowledged her.
Her eyes welled with tears as she looked at Andrew.
Andrew spoke up for her:
“Dad, Chloe went out of her way to buy these for you. Couldn’t you at least smile?”
Mr. Smith snorted.
“I may be old, but I’m not senile. These supplements are rarities even European nobles can’t get. Other than Rachel, who else could have obtained them?”
“Such fine things—who else but Rachel would rush to give them to me first?”
My nose stung. At least someone recognized my efforts.
Chloe burst into tears and stormed off, but Andrew hesitated only briefly before staying behind.
That night, he suddenly embraced me, whispering into my ear:
“Rachel, could you give Chloe the development rights for that land in New York?”
The tenderness I’d felt moments earlier froze instantly.
I stared at him, my eyes filled with emotions he couldn’t read. After a long pause, I said,
“Andrew, do you even realize how cruel you are?”
His expression darkened.
“Cruel? No, Rachel—you’re the cruel one. Don’t think I don’t know this is all your doing with Dad.”
“If you don’t agree, then Buddy won’t live.”
In his hand was a photo of Buddy hooked up to IVs at the clinic.
My voice trembled. After a long silence, I finally whispered, “Fine.”
You can’t force love. I finally understood.
Soon after, Andrew took Chloe on a “business trip” to New York, though their social media was flooded with photos that looked more like a honeymoon.
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