After I Do by Taylor Jenkins Reid Read Free Book Online

didn’t you answer the phone when I called you? Twice?”
    Ryan made a vague hand gesture to his phone across the room. “Sorry,” he said. “I guess the ringer must be off. What’s the matter?”
    I finally put my purse down. “Well, I was hit in a hit-and-run,” I said. “But I’m fine.”
    “Oh, my God!” Ryan said, running toward the window to take a look at the car. I’d said I was fine. But it still bothered me that he didn’t run to take a look at me .
    “The car is in bad shape,” I said. “But I’m sure insurance will cover it.”
    He turned to me. “You got the license plate of the person who hit you, right?”
    “No,” I said. “I couldn’t. It all happened too fast.”
    “They aren’t going to cover it,” Ryan said, “if you can’t tell them who did it.”
    “Well, I’m sorry, Ryan!” I said. “I’m sorry someone slammed into me and didn’t bother to hand me their license-plate number.”
    “Well, you could have gotten it as they sped away,” Ryan said. “That’s all I meant.”
    “Yeah, well, I didn’t, OK?”
    Ryan just looked at me.
    “I’m fine, by the way. Don’t worry about me. I was in a car accident, but who cares, right? As long as I can square it all with the insurance company.”
    “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. I know you’re OK. You said you were OK.”
    He was right. I did say that. But I still wanted him to ask. I wanted him to hug me and feel bad for me. I wanted him to offer to take care of me. And also, deep down, I was truly, truly pissed off that he had been sitting there watching a movie while I stood on the shoulder of the 5 South, not knowing what I should do.
    “OK,” I said, after it was quiet for a while. “I guess I’ll call the insurance company.”
    “Do you want me to do it?” he asked.
    “I got it, thanks,” I said.
    The woman I filed the claim with asked me how I was. She said, “Oh, you poor baby.” I’m sure that’s just what they say to everyone in an accident. I’m sure they are taught to act very concerned and understanding. But still, it felt nice. After I reviewed all of the information with her, she told me that the insurance company would cover it after all. We just had to pay the deductible.
    When I got off the phone, I walked into the living room and joined Ryan.
    “They will pay for it,” I said. I was trying to keep my tone polite, but the truth was, I wanted him to know that he had been wrong.
    “Cool,” he said.
    “We just have to pay a deductible.”
    “Got it. Sounds like it would have been better if we’d gotten the license plate. I guess we know for next time.”
    It took everything I had not to call him an asshole.

SIX MONTHS AGO
    W here do you want to go for dinner?” I asked Ryan. He was twenty minutes late coming home from work. He seemed to always be late coming home from work. Sometimes he’d call, sometimes he wouldn’t. But regardless, I was always starving by the time he got home.
    “I don’t care,” he said. “What do you want to eat? I just don’t want Italian.”
    I groaned. He would never just pick a place. “Vietnamese?” I said, standing by the front door, grabbing my coat. As soon as we agreed on a place, I wanted to get moving.
    “Ugh,” he said. His voice was grumpy. He didn’t want Vietnamese.
    “Greek? Thai? Indian?”
    “Let’s just order pizza,” he said. He took off his jacket when he said it. He was deciding that we would stay home. But I wanted to go out.
    “You just said you didn’t want Italian,” I said.
    “It’s pizza.” His tone was a little bit pointed. “You asked me what I wanted. I want pizza.”
    “Sorry, did I do something?” I asked him. “You seem frustrated with me.”
    “I was going to say the same to you.”
    “No,” I said, trying to back off, trying to seem pleasant. “I just want to eat dinner.”
    “I’ll get the pizza menu.”
    “Wait.” I stopped him. “Can’t we go out? I feel like I’ve been eating