Kevin had known he had treaded too far when this had slipped out, but it was too late.

Because he had wanted to fight back, to recoup his lost vanity, he had become cruel. He had blamed his own failing on Jean and accused her of being cold and unfeeling.

"Christ, I might as well have married a statue. It could satisfy me as much as you have." He had shouted in guilt and anger. "I don't think you'll ever be able to make a man happy. Not until you learn to get off that pedestal you've put yourself on. Or, at least, that your old man's put you on."

Kevin had seen her move and glance toward him with the deepest hatred he had yet seen in her eyes. He knew he had hit a sore point and was glad to see some reaction from her, even though it was of hate, it was better than nothing. Besides, he felt like hurting her now the way she had hurt him.

"I'm going out and get myself some little slut off the street. I need a good grind. It'll be a long time before I get one at home."

With this, he had gone to the bathroom and dressed. He left, slamming the door behind him, not pausing for even a side glance at Jean.

That had been his big mistake, he thought bitterly as he flipped the cigarette butt out the open window of the racing train. Jean had been in no condition to be left alone at that moment. He should have swallowed his pride and not let his male ego take over. They wouldn't have this mess now if he had done what he should have and not run off into the Paris streets to walk off his own guilt feelings.

He had not gone out after a woman that night.

He had spent several hours just walking and stopping periodically for a cognac. He had thought long and hard about their relationship. It had been a good one and still could be in spite of his miserable failure on their wedding night. The cool Paris night air had settled his mind a bit and he had worked out an apology and explanation of sorts. It might take a while, but he was sure she would get over it.