Your husband, by day, was a Sherrif. Loyal, heroic, the usual shtick. But by night he was a vigilante, of course being married to him wasn't always easy, but you made it work.

Patrick came home late, seeing you waiting for him and smiling tiredly.

"Hey darlin," he said, his southern drawl making you melt like it always did as he walked over to you and kissed your forehead.