Overlooked Wife, Officially Done

By the time I got through my dad's funeral, it was already past midnight.And yep—Millie had just dropped another update.She and Dylan were out there, chilling by a bonfire with the locals, stargazing like it was some indie movie.Dylan—who never posted anything—left a comment under her photo:[As long as you like it.]Our mutual friends flooded them with blessings.They all knew I was his wife, but still treated Dylan and Millie like the real couple.I felt like the extra—like I snuck in while Millie was on a coffee break.Dylan huffed and puffed over a beach trip with me, but for her? He was suddenly fine hiking up where the air's thinner than his excuses.I could beg a hundred times—it'd never beat one look from Millie.I was done.After everything, I stood on the hospital rooftop, staring at the pale moonlight over Seavora.That's when Dylan finally called. Not to ask how I was. Not a word about the funeral.Just to circle back to what I'd said hours ago."You bring

"To you, Millie's highland drama obviously takes top billing," I added. "So no hard feelings."Dylan clamped his mouth shut, fingers twitching like he was trying to reboot."You hungry? I made a reservation—French place. Your fave. Let's go.""Hard pass." I shook my head. "I'm wiped. And FYI? I hate French food. I'm small-town, remember? One raw oyster and I'm in the ER."I wasn't about to waste energy on his last-minute guilt trip.***I wasn't the one obsessed with French food. That was all Millie.Miss artsy-boho-wanders-the-world-for-"inspiration."To Dylan and his crowd, I was just the small-town extra—background noise. A nobody trying too hard to climb into their world, hanging onto Dylan like a desperate groupie.He never said it out loud, but not once did he shut them down when they trashed me.He hesitated, then said, "I've just been swamped. The highlands trip with Millie? Totally work. She's hunting for inspiration for our next line. Not really your thing, so don't

Dylan stepped in, closing the gap fast.His breath hit my face—shaky, uneven. "You really dare to divorce me?"Oh, I dare.Patricia rushed over, hands shaking as she clutched mine. "Judy, why so sudden? Did Dylan do something?"She shot him a death glare. "Apologize. Now."He blinked, totally thrown. "If something had happened with Millie, why would I have married you?"Voice all soft like that line ever worked.Old me would've melted. Would've clung to that sliver of fake tenderness, convinced he still loved me.Not now."Dylan," I said, calm as ice. "Dad's gone. You can drop the act. We're done. Go live your little Millie fantasy."He flinched. Then boom—sneer mode activated."This whole meltdown's 'cause I didn't take you to the beach? You're still salty about Millie?"He turned to Patricia. "Mom, you're seriously taking her side? Look at her—what part of that says 'respectable'? Millie and I were working. Judy just nags and throws the divorce card. She needs to be locke

"You moved out?" he asked.Wow. He noticed?All I took was the wooden carving Dad gave us as a wedding gift—the one that sat by the door forever. Dylan used to dump his hats and scarves on it like it was just another coat rack. Figured he stopped seeing it a long time ago."Yeah," I said flatly.Silence.For a second, I thought he hung up. Then finally—his voice came through, rough and low."Come back. I didn't mean what I said. I was just angry."Softer than I'd ever heard him. Almost... desperate.Funny. A few hours ago, I was just the "unworthy" wife. Now? He's suddenly humble.I said, "Didn't I basically give you what you wanted by asking for a divorce? What's there to cry about?""No... Millie and I—it's not what you think."He kept fumbling, stuck on repeat.I cut in. "Dylan, I KNOW exactly what you're trying to hold onto. You look down on me, but you're too chicken to actually choose Millie—too scared she'll wreck you again."So you kept me in your back pocket, ditc

"A woman? No way she understands chemistry," he snorted."She's the one Prof. Beaufort at Arlington U practically begged to skip straight to the PhD track," Dylan said, stepping out from behind me. "She's published more ACS papers than you've signed contracts. She doesn't understand? Do YOU?"Mr. Phalen blinked like a deer in headlights. "Mr. Leveson... So, you two know each other?""She's my wife." Dylan smiled at me, clearly expecting a gold star."I'm not," I said.***Dylan's grin died on the spot.He opened his mouth to salvage whatever ego he had left, but another hand brushed his off my shoulder.A new guy walked in, flashing me a warm smile. "You're Judy Jolliffe, Prof. Beaufort's TA, right? I've heard great things. I'm Trevon Tyler—your senior."Ah. The guy from the overseas lab Prof. Beaufort mentioned. He was joining the project."I've seen your past experiments," Trevon added. "Been wanting to meet you. With you on board, this project's only going up."I nodded a