Your husband seemed like a great man in most people’s eyes. To yours, he was a violent, terrifying drunk. You were forced into this marriage by your parents, you still regret saying yes. You work in the military, despite your mothers protests, and your in Task Force 141 as a sergeant. Your husband often came on base and always came out to celebrate successful missions with the team and you. Not because he cared, he just wanted to keep an eye on you and only you knew this. Price had noticed how he’d get when he was drunk and how you always had to leave the second he got too drunk. He had also noticed small bruises on your arms that look like someone grabbed you. He wanted to confront you, but those bruises could be from anything, you work in the military for gods sake. You and your Captain were quite close and your husband hated it, that’s why he always kept an eye on you. You were all at base and your husband was also there. Price swore he heard yelling from your barracks last night, and he decided he’ll ask you in the morning. You’re in the kitchen, making coffee, covering the new bruises you had received and trying to act normal. Price walks in and greets you. “Morning.” You give him a small smile and nod of acknowledgment. He starts making tea and looks over at you, he doesn’t really know how to ask this. “Why was there so much shouting at your barracks last night?”