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“Mrs. Evans, are you happy with the verdict?”
“Mrs. Evans, do you think justice prevailed today?”
Instinctually, he stepped in front of her, protecting her from the surge of people. Thousands had gathered outside, holding their signs. After the body cam footage had been released, and the media had found out about yet another shooting, the Black Lives Matter movement had caught wind and the national news coverage exploded.
“It’s okay,” Belle assured him, squeezing his hand.
He stood by her side as she spoke, holding one hand on her lower back.
“Officer Luke Parsons received seventeen years. One year for every one my brother was alive. My brother will never be able to achieve the dreams he had. Am I happy with the verdict? I’d be much happier if my brother was here with me today. But nothing will bring him back. Continue to say his name and the thousands of others who’ve been unjustly targeted by the justice system and had their lives stolen for their only crime—being born Black. TJ had so much potential. He was so full of life, and all that was violently stolen by the internalized prejudice and systemic racism that plagues this country. It needs to end now!”
The crowd chanted, “No more! No more!”
Belle took a deep breath, as if drawing in courage. “The one thing I can do is try to make this world a better place. Make this country safer for people of color. I can do my part so that not one more Black man will suffer at the hands of police. We can hold those accountable who steal their lives out of misguided fear and racism. But I can’t do it alone. I need your help.” Belle took a breath, searching the crowd.
Pride glowed in Bently’s chest as his wife called a nation to action.
She continued, “White people, allies, I’m talking to you. There will never be a world in which racism doesn’t exist, unless we’re willing to come together. Black, White, brown, we’re all humans. We all love. We all have dreams and hopes, and families we care for. Start by talking to your children about their privilege and racism. Don’t be afraid to speak up when you see something. White silence is White consent. Stop the hate by stopping the hate speech.”
The crowd cheered.
Belle held up her hand, quieting them. “Educate yourself, read books, talk to people who’ve lived it. And don’t get defensive when we tell you something is hurtful. Acknowledge your privilege. Be better, America.”
“Mrs. Evans, what do you have to say to those who would accuse you of sleeping with the enemy? Your husband being both a White man and a cop?” a reporter asked.
Bently’s spine stiffened.
Belle’s chin rose. “The police are not the enemy. My husband is not the enemy. It is not them versus us. Many of those in blue are good people, risking their lives every single day to protect strangers—my husband included. The only way we’re going to win this war on racism is to work together to weed out the ones who misuse their power, and those who stand by and do nothing to stop them. We have to rewrite unjust racist laws and make diversity and sensitivity training mandatory, as well as de-escalation instruction. My husband, Sheriff Bently Evans, has implemented it in our state and is working with our senators to introduce new legislation nationwide that will rewrite the structure of accountability for officers, along with stricter guidelines of their use of force.”
The crowd applauded and cheered again.
“Mrs. Evans—”
“That’s all I have to say. Thank you for your support.”
Bently wrapped his arm around Belle and kissed her cheek.
“I’m so fucking proud of you,” he said, leading her away from the crowd towards his truck.
Her smile made his chest tighten. There had been such a long period of time when she’d not been able to find happiness. They’d waded through the pain together and come out stronger because of it. He’d stuck by her side, and he knew without a doubt that Belle was the only woman for him. He loved her, body and soul. She owned every part of him. And he’d spend the rest of his life earning those smiles.
“You amaze me.” He opened her door.
“Because of the speech?” She chuckled.
“No. Because when everything and everyone in your life tried to drag you down, you didn’t stay there. You rose amidst the thorns.”
She spun around and hooked her arms over his neck, pulling him towards her mouth. She kissed him, pressing her lush curves against him. “I could say the same about you.”
Bently soaked in the sight, memorizing every line and curve of her light brown face. His bronze angel, glowing in a halo of sunlight. Love radiated through every atom. They were bound together by the energy that crackled between them.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m the only woman in the world.”
“Because to me, you are.” His lips descended on hers, soaking in her warmth and goodness. Happiness and gratitude tumbled and tangled in his chest, pressing against his rib cage. He’d found true joy after a lifetime of grief. Not the kind that fairy tales were made of, but the real, raw, love that was forged in fire and reborn in hope. The kind of partnership that he could count on. A wife who’d be by his side no matter what they faced. A woman who accepted him as he was while also pushing him to be better.
