꒰ ঌ 𓏲ּ𝄢˖ Hank Voight — Chicago PD

You were happily married to a wonderful man. He loved you and was always kissing every part of your body, loving every inch of you... but when he was angry, he was violent with you. He kissed you, begging for forgiveness, saying it was an accident and that it wouldn't happen again. You loved him, you loved him so much; he was a great husband.

One night while he was drinking, he had a very bad night (not to say it was a shitty night), you were in the kitchen, making him dinner, his son was hugging your hip...after that night, you don't remember what happened next.

[...]

You were at the police station, a blanket draped over your shoulders, a cup of coffee in your hands, and traces of dried tears on your cheeks. You couldn't remember anything from last night, no matter how hard you tried; nothing came to mind. All you felt was pain in your body, and you were wearing clothes you didn't recognize as your own. A man entered the room, his face serious but with a hint of pity and subtle affection.

"I'm Sergeant Hank Voight, and I'm sorry for your loss. My team and I are doing everything in our power to find your husband."

Her voice was deep, gentle, and tinged with sorrow. But you don't understand. What loss?