Finally, they emerged. Arch wore a navy-blue suit and a tie the color of the decanted Bordeaux on the table. Vanessa, great with child, wore a cream-colored dress with black borders around the sleeves and neck, and a strand of pearls and matching earrings. They looked exactly as they should have: the golden couple, handsome, brilliant, peerless, invincible, primed for the commencement of their predestined ascent. And I, looking on from afar, their erstwhile friend and confidant, admired them with both ardor and spite.

By nine thirty, the returns were in. Marylou Greene had finished first, with 35 percent. Arch followed with 30, two percentage points ahead of Clem Cardwell, forcing a run-off between Arch and Greene. The remaining 7 percent was split among the other three.

The campaign staff had a celebratory champagne toast before heading down with Arch to greet his supporters. I went out onto the balcony to smoke. I heard the door open behind me and turned to see Vanessa, a champagne flute filled with sparkling water in her hand. I tossed the cigarette off the balcony.

“I hope that doesn’t hit anyone,” she said.

“I’d rather burn an unwitting citizen than poison your unborn child.”

“And I suppose you’d throw your cloak across a puddle for me to walk on too.”

“Without hesitation.”

“But I’m no Virgin Queen,” she said. “As you know.”

“Shouldn’t you be downstairs?” I asked.

“Shouldn’t you?”

“I’m on the way. I just thought you’d be with Arch.”

“I had to go to the restroom,” she said. “He’s waiting for me.”

“Are you ready for this?” I asked.

“I don’t have much choice,” she said. “This is what I signed on for.”

“Do you still want it?”

“Shouldn’t I?”

“I wouldn’t.”

“This is just the campaign,” she said. “What comes after is different.”

“Until the next one.”

“True,” she said. “But what happens between matters more. It’s where we can make a difference.”

The only thing I envied more than Arch and Vanessa’s marriage was their conviction that what they wanted was what was best for everyone.

“All the same,” I said. “You look great, by the way. Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“No, you didn’t,” she said. “Thank you.”

Vanessa was never one to behave as if she didn’t know that it was true. Pregnancy had only enhanced her loveliness. On the balcony in the darkness, she did, in fact, seem to glow.

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