Too Late: Day 13

 Word Count: 78,005

Summary of Events:

Amarina discovered she'd lost the sixth verse before she could put it where she wanted to, and so went home disappointed and wondering how she could possibly soldier on. Troubled by her refusal to give him her mobile number, Callan gave the counsellor her social media username so that they could get in touch. Amarina was sent home from work early because a fire near her workplace had necessitated an evacuation order, but before she got home, she was texted by the monster, who told her he was waiting for her outside her house, thus she made the decision to stay with Callan, who fed her supper because she'd arrived so early. The following morning Callan was disappointed to find that she'd left before he woke again, but thought fondly of the evening he'd spent with her . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

The little ant had been impressed with how well he cooked, and even with how he’d plated the meal, recommending that if what he did for a living didn’t turn out for him, he ought to go into cooking.

Alicia had taught him how to cook, even though he’d initially not been keen on the idea, and had actually deliberately neglected food in order to show his distaste for the task.

When she had gently chastised him for wasting food and showed him both the nutritional and financial benefits of cooking his own meals at home — as well as showing him some recipes she had that made better, homemade versions of some of his favourite restaurant foods — he’d been convinced it would be worth his while to learn how to cook and had applied himself.

Now, three years later, Callan had to admit that there were times he felt like cooking was his second favourite activity after all the things it took to be a footballer, it was even nicer than going for walks around the Scottish countryside when he was up at Keith.

There was an inherent satisfaction in taking things that, on their face, didn’t look like they’d taste very good on their own, forget together, and making them into something delicious, and there was what he’d told the little ant, too: the ability to make his own pairings and choices with certain things instead of being restricted to the meal combinations that the restaurants offered.

He could also season things differently and he’d even actually tried his hand at inventing some recipes of his own — some having gone better than others, of course — one of which was, in fact, the recipe that he’d served the little ant last night.

The only thing that hadn’t happened last night that ought to have was that he’d never gotten around to telling the little ant that he was Callan Mitchell Abernethey Reid, the star footballer she adored, and the man on social media who was striving to help her to get free from the torments that had her considering the idea of taking her own life.

Callan certainly felt badly about that, he should’ve told her, but hopefully, considering how pleasant the night had been, she’d come by again and he’d be able to tell her one of those times, and maybe even convince her to never go home again.

In fact, a look down at his left hand prompted a thought that rather startled Callan, but yet, the more he rolled it over in his mind, the more he liked it.

The thought was what might his ring finger look like with a ring on?

He’d never considered marrying someone before, yet he had to admit that he would genuinely consider marrying the little ant.

Besides, surely she’d feel safer being his wife, knowing by the fact that he’d married her that he was committed to protecting her for all time, instead of being willing to forsake or abandon her. She needed that kind of assurance, he was sure, and he was more than willing to give it to her.