I mean, it's not like it isn't fun dancing around in skimpy clothes and getting paid for it. I don't even need to, anymore. Steve can support me all on his own, but I need to be able to have mobility. Also, why the fuck has he not proposed to me yet? It's not as if—brrrring. A phone interrupted my silent thoughts. I answered it, looking at the baby blue walls of the living room, relaxing on a dark leather sofa.
"Hello, Jasmine?" A voice answered.
"Dylan?" My eyes darted around.
"Yes. I called—I heard you were living with someone else, and—I..."
"We're over. We've been over since that July," I explained.
"No, I lost my job. And we're technically still married. So I can sue you," I practically could hear him grin on the other end.
"For what?" I asked, scared.
"Cheating on me. I've been talking to a lawyer."
"No. You can't do that."
"Yes I can, honey. I can make you do anything I want, you dirty stripping slut—"
I hang up the phone, barely catching my breath.
"Steve?" I yelled. He came into the room as fast as he could.
"Honey?" he replied.
"How do I get a divorce?"
YOU ARE READING
We're Gonna Do This: Jasmine's Story (Independence Day)
FanfictionWhat was Jasmine's story before Independence Day? Why is she an "exotic dancer"? Who is Dylan's father? All will be answered in this (short) Independence Day fanfic.
