Member-only story
Valentine’s Day in a Cop Car
Talk about a date night to remember.
( Heads up: this story contains brief references to domestic violence)
Romance looks different to different people.
For me on Valentine’s this year, it looked like copious Purell and my husband insisting that the shotgun was not to be taken from its cradle for anything less than a zombie outbreak.
“But what if they call you names, John?”
Nope, not even if the people he’s arresting call him names.
My husband graduated from the police academy the day before our wedding, which was not at all a huge cause of stress in the months preceding, thanks for asking.
But five years on, and our marriage was still defined by a career I’d only experienced vicariously (even though I write about cops in my books). I preferred it that way at first as I dealt with the constant anxiety that comes with your new husband working patrol in the toughest sector of town from 8:30pm to 6:30am four nights a week.
But, finally, after years of him claiming he has the coolest job in the world, I called him on it. I scheduled a ride out so I could see for myself.
And, uh, yeah, he has the coolest job in the world.
