A Promise of Fireflies by Susan Haught

curtly, adjusting his feet in the doorway. “I guess Scottsdale won’t be so bad. I can take him to Diamondbacks and Cardinals games when he gets a little older. Introduce the little guy to the mountains on weekends.”
    She smiled, tilting her head. “You think it’s a boy?”
    “Thinking out loud. He’s my flesh and blood. I want to be a part of his or her life.”
    “You really care about this baby, don’t you?”
    “Evan is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Ryleigh was too, but he kept the thought to himself. “It wasn’t hard to fall in love with this kid, either.”
    Della turned slowly and crossed the room. “Here,” she said, placing his hand on her abdomen. She smiled demurely and leaned in closer, guiding his hand. Their hands circled her belly. He held his breath. Did it seem rounder than he remembered? Was his child moving yet? Della was so petite, surely she’d show soon and he’d feel the life growing inside her. Della’s free arm slipped beneath his untucked shirt, and she sank into him, sobering his thoughts.
    Chandler pulled himself away and held her at arm’s length, her persistent wiles striking a note of irritation beneath an unyielding armor. But pouring gasoline on an ember wasn’t likely to douse a fire that once burned with intense heat. With one hand, he lifted her face and watched the way her smile softened the faint lines around her mouth. He spoke softly, the words forming from the deepest part of his being, the place no one but him knew what resided there. “You’re carrying my child—a child I already love. I will honor that. I will be there for this baby.”
    Anguish moistened her eyes. “Chandler—”
    “But I’m not coming back. I don’t love you.” His eyes penetrated hers as if to engrave the words in her mind. He smoothed a length of golden hair away from her mouth and dropped his hands to his side. “I’m sorry. And I can honestly say I never did.”
    Resigned, she stepped away and fell into the chair. “It doesn’t make any difference anyway,” she said, pulling her legs to her chest and folding her arms around them.
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “It just means it doesn’t matter.” She stared at the floor. “There is no baby, Chandler.”
    Her words sliced through the air and struck him hard. “What happened?”
    “Nothing happened.”
    “God, Della. Did you miscarry? When?”
    She hesitated. “I didn’t miscarry.”
    “Then what the hell are you telling me?” He raised his hands in surrender.
    “Men can be so gullible sometimes.” She stood and faced him. “There never was a baby. Do you think I would do something that stupid? Look at me,” she said, displaying her body with outstretched hands. “I used it as leverage.” Angry tears welled in her eyes. “I’m pretty good at getting what I want and I wanted you.”
    The lie simmered in his blood. Was she lying to him now? He’d felt her belly. Small and round and hard. He gripped the doorframe tighter.
    “You were different,” she said, pacing the floor. “I couldn’t break you no matter what I did. Then I watched you with your son.”
    He opened his mouth to speak, but no words formed.
    “It was stupid and childish, but I had to try.” Tears streaked her face as the confession rolled from her lips. “It almost worked.” Her lip trembled. “I’m not sorry and I’d do it again if I thought there was a chance. But I can’t pretend. I don’t want to be pregnant. Not with your child, or anyone’s, Chandler. I’m not cut out for the ‘mommy’ thing.”
    Her words settled coarsely inside him and he couldn’t form his own. He had accepted and embraced the fact he was going to be a father again. “You didn’t do something stupid, you didn’t…” the words stuck in a throat gone paper dry.
    “No! God, Chandler, I’m not as heartless as you think.” Her voice rose. “Don’t you understand? I made the whole thing up. I wanted you, not some kid I