Page 65 of Second Chance with the Single Dad Goalie
It was nothing short of magical.
The entire town felt like it had stepped straight out of a storybook, every street bursting with color and life. Flowers were everywhere - woven into braids, pinned to lapels, twining around bicycles, and even the occasional overenthusiastic golden retriever. The scent of fresh blooms of lilacs, roses, and honeysuckle mixed with the aroma of sugar-dusted pastries,grilled corn, and warm honey drizzling over flaky pastries from the festival stalls lingered in the air.
Music played from speakers along the sidewalks, a light, cheerful melody that set the mood for the day. Families, couples, and groups of friends strolled through the streets, dressed in soft pastels and floral prints, their laughter blending with the hum of activity. I spent some time with my family before I had to get the kids ready for the flower parade.
The Flower Parade started in the morning, and the kids were ecstatic. Children, including Mia and Nico, paraded through town, pushing their tiny, decorated carts filled with carefully arranged spring flowers. The kids had taken their decorating very seriously—Mia’s cart was an explosion of pink and purple blossoms, while Nico had insisted on adding twigs and tiny stones, claiming they made him ‘cooler’.
Blake walked with them due to Mia’s insistence.
By midday, the Spring Feast which is my favorite because it had one thing I love, food, was next. Long wooden tables stretched down the main square, covered in white linen and overflowing with trays of pastries, berry pies, roasted vegetables, and fresh fruit. There was homemade lemonade, honey-drizzled biscuits, bread so soft it practically melted in your mouth, and many other delicacies brought by almost everyone.
Everyone ate to their heart content. I am very sure no one was left out of having a protruding belly.
Then came the Secret Blossom Exchange - a new addition to the Bloomtide Festival tradition. Throughout the festival, people left small bouquets, flower-themed gifts, flower-pressed bookmarks, or handwritten notes anonymously for friends, family, or - most intriguing - secret crushes.
I found a bouquet waiting for me on a bench - a mix of wildflowers and soft pink roses, tied together with twine. There was a note attached to it.
"Some flowers bloom effortlessly, drawing everyone in without even trying. You’re one of them."
No signature. No hint of who left it. Just those words, simple yet strangely intimate.
I stared at the note for a long moment, my heart doing something weird in my chest. Then, almost instinctively, I glanced around the festival crowd, searching for a clue.
Nothing.
The flower is currently in a glass jar by my bedside with the note in my drawer.
By sunset, the energy of the festival softened, and the Wishing Lantern Release began. The Wishing Lantern Release has always been my favorite part. Hundreds of lanterns filled the air and the river. It was breathtaking - like watching dreams take flight.
Nico, who was in Blake’s arms, couldn't take his eyes off the lanterns floating above. Crouching down, I asked Mia.
"What did you wish for?"
"It's a secret!" Mia said, eyes wide with the importance of it as her gaze locked on the lantern as it drifted upward, glowing against the deepening twilight.
And then, to close the night, there was The First Bloom Dance.
The day was so much fun.
Even now, as I sit curled up by the fireplace, watching the flames flicker and crackle, I can still hear the laughter, the music, the warmth of the town coming alive. The scent of spring flowers lingers in my mind.
I pulled the throw blanket tighter around my shoulders and let out a quiet sigh.
"What are you doing here all alone?"
The deep voice startles me, and I jolt, my head snapping toward the doorway. Blake leans against the frame, arms crossed, watching me with that unreadable look he always wears so well.
"Blake!" I press a hand to my chest, glaring at him. "You scared me."
A slow smirk tugs at his lips. "Did I? You looked pretty deep in thought. Should I have sent a warning first?"
I roll my eyes, but he just grins.
"Sorry," he says.
I narrow my eyes on him. “You don’t sound sorry.”
Blake tilts his head, considering. “You’re right. I’m not.”
