“Why don't we just rent a baby?” she said coldly. “No one would have to know. We could just take it on the campaign trail with us, and then give it back when we get home. It would be a lot easier. Babies are so incredibly messy, and so much trouble.” He didn't like the look in her eyes when she said it.

“Comments like that are unnecessary,” he said quietly, looking like exactly what he was, a rich boy who had gone to all the best prep schools, followed by Harvard undergraduate and law school. He had lots of family money behind him, and he had always believed that there was nothing he couldn't have if he either bought it or worked hard enough for it. He was willing to do both, but not for her. And there was no way in the world she was going to have another baby with him. He was never around for the first one, even once he had cancer. It was part of why Alex's death had been so hard on her, and somewhat easier for Andy. He hadn't been nearly as close to their son as she was.

“Your proposal is revolting. It's the most disgusting thing I ever heard,” she said with a look of outrage. “You want to buy five years of my life, at a sensible price, and you want me to have another child because it will help you get elected. I may throw up if I sit here and listen to you for much longer.” The look on her face told him exactly what she thought of his proposal.

“You always liked children. I don't understand why that's a problem.”

“I don't like you anymore, Andy, and this is why, or part of it. How can you be this crass and insensitive? What has happened to you?” Tears burned her eyes, but she refused to cry for him. He wasn't worth it. “I love children. I still do. But I'm not going to have a baby for a campaign, with a man who doesn't love me. What were you suggesting, that we do it by artificial insemination?” He hadn't slept with her in months, and she didn't really care. He didn't have time, and he had other resources he exploited regularly, and she didn't have the interest.

“I think you're overreacting,” he said, but he was faintly embarrassed by what she was saying. There was some truth to it, and even he knew it. But he couldn't back down now. It was too important to him to win her over. He had told his campaign manager that she would balk at having a baby. She had been terribly attached to their first child, distraught when he died, and he suspected that she would never be willing to have another. She was much too afraid now to lose it. “All right, I'd like you to think about it, though. Say a million for each year. That's five million dollars for five years, and another two if you have a baby.” He was serious and all she could do was laugh now.

“Do you think I should hold out for two a year and three if I have a baby? What does that make,” she pretended to consider it, “let's see …that's six if I have twins …nine if I have triplets. I could take Pergonal shots …maybe even quadruplets …” She turned and looked at him with wounded eyes. Who was this man she had once believed in? How could she have been so wrong about him? Listening to him, she wondered if he'd ever been human, yet deep in her heart, she knew he had been, way, way at the beginning. It was because of the person he once had been, and not the one he was now, that she stayed and listened. “If I do any of this for you, and I doubt that I will, it will be out of some distorted sense of loyalty to you, not out of greed, or because I'm trying to get rich off you. But I know how badly you want this.” It would be her final gift to him, and then she'd never have to feel guilty for leaving.

“It's all I want, Olivia,” he said, so intent, he was pale. And she knew that for once he was being honest.

“I'll think about it,” she said quietly. She didn't know what to do now. That morning she had been convinced that she'd be back in La Favière by the end of the week, and now she was about to become first lady. It was a nightmare. But she felt as though she owed him something. He was still her husband, and he had been the father of her child, and she could help him get the one thing he wanted in life. It was an incredible gift to give anyone. And without her, she knew he couldn't do it.

“I want to announce it in two days. We're going back to Washington tomorrow.”

“Nice of you to tell me.”

“If you stuck around, maybe you'd get our travel plans,” he said bluntly, watching her, wondering what decision she'd make. But he knew her well enough to know he couldn't force her. He wondered if talking to her father would do anything, but he was afraid that in the end it might work against him.

It was a long agonizing night for her in the hotel, and she wished she could go for another long walk alone. She needed time to think, but understandably, she knew that the security people were skittish about her. And she wished more than anything that she could talk to Peter. She wondered what he would think, if he would say that she owed Andy this final gift, this one last great gesture of loyalty, or if he would say that she was crazy. Five years seemed like an eternity, and she knew that it would be five long years that she hated, particularly if he won the election.

But by morning, she had made up her mind, and met Andy over breakfast. He looked nervous and pale, not at the prospect of losing her, but with total terror that she wouldn't help him win the election.

“I suppose I should say something philosophical,” she said over coffee and croissants. He had asked everyone else to leave, which was rare for him. She hadn't been alone with him for years, except in bed at night, and this was the second time in two days. He looked at her strangely, convinced she was about to refuse him. “But I guess we're beyond philosophy, aren't we? I just keep wondering how we got here. I keep remembering back to the beginning. I think you were in love with me then, and I can never quite figure out what happened. I remember the events, like newsreels that I replay in my head, but I can never quite figure out the exact moment when it all went sour. Can you?' she asked him sadly.

“I'm not really sure it matters,” he said, sounding subdued. He already knew what she was going to tell him. He had never thought she would be this vengeful. He had had his share of dalliances, he had done a lot of things, but he had never thought it really mattered to her. He realized now he'd been very foolish. “I think things just happen over time. And my brother died. You don't know what that was like for me. You were there, but it was different for me. Suddenly everything that had been expected of him was expected of me. I had to stop being who I was and become him. I guess you and I got lost in the shuffle.'

“Maybe you should have told me then.” Maybe they should never have had Alex. Maybe she should have left him right in the beginning. But she wouldn't have given up the two years of Alex's life for anything. But even that didn't make her want another child now. She realized, as she looked at him, that she had to put Andy out of his misery. Waiting for her to finish what she had to say, he was dying. And she decided to do it quickly. “I've decided to agree to stay with you for the next five years, at a million a year. I have no idea what I'm going to do with it, give it to charity, buy a castle in Switzerland, start a research fund in Alex's name, whatever it is, I'll figure it out later. You offered me a million a year, and I'll take it. But I have my conditions too. I want a guarantee from you that I'm out at the end of five years, whether or not you get reelected. And if you lose this time, all bets are off, and I'm gone the day after the election. And there's to be no pretense anymore. I'll pose for all the pictures you want, and go on the campaign trail, but you and I are no longer married. No one else has to know, but I want it clearly understood between us. I want my own bedroom wherever we go, and there will be no more children.” It was blunt, it was quick, it was direct, and it was over. Except that she had just plea-bargained herself into a five-year sentence, and he was so shocked he didn't even look pleased yet.

“How am I supposed to explain the separate bedroom?” He looked worried and pleased all at once. He had gotten almost everything he wanted, except a baby, and that had been his campaign manager's idea in the first place.

“Tell them I'm an insomniac,” she answered his question for him, “or I have nightmares.” It was a good idea, and he figured they'd come up with some fantasy to cover it … he had so much work to do …the stress of the presidency …something like that.

What about adoption?” He was negotiating down to the last points of the deal, but she remained firm on that one.

“Forget it. I'm not in the business of buying babies for politics. I won't do that to anyone, and certainly not an innocent child. They deserve a better life than this, and better parents.” One day she thought she might like to have another child, or even adopt one, but not with him, and not part of a business contract as loveless as this one. “And I want all of this in a contract. You're a lawyer, you can draw it up yourself, just between us, and no one ever has to see it.”

“You need witnesses,” he said, still looking bemused. She had absolutely overwhelmed him with her answer. After all she'd said the night before, he'd been certain she wouldn't do it.

“Find someone you trust then,” she said quietly, but that was a tall order in his world. Everyone surrounding him would have sold him out in an instant.

“I don't know what to say to you,” he said, still looking astonished.

“There's not much left to say, Andy, is there?” In one fell swoop, he was running for the presidency, and their marriage was over. It made her sad, thinking about it, but there was no tenderness, not even friendship left between them. It was going to be a long five years for her, and for her own sake, she hoped he wouldn't win it.