João kept his arm around your waist or his hand on the small of your back the whole night, gently caressing your baby bump or guiding you through the crowd, making sure you were always within reach. He kept you at a distance from others to ensure his teammates didn't overstimulate you with their incessant curiosity and intrigue. Harmless, you knew, but easily triggering anyway and João knew better than to take a risk.

"Você está bem, minha esposa?" João would occasionally whisper in your ear, to which you'd respond with a hum or nod, anything to make sure you weren't discomforted in the slightest.

Yet despite the loving idea of it all, despite the physical proximity and the tenderness, he still felt so distant, so cold. It stung to think he acted this way as an obligation, even though you knew deep down that wasn't the case.

Your mind occasionally travels back to the words exchanged earlier that evening. You knew you were being petty, at least you had realized so later when you finally calmed down, but by then João'd become quieter, more obviously trying to rein in his emotions because God forbid he lashed out at you while you were carrying his daughter.

You request to withdraw, your social battery draining faster than usual as your back cramps returned, more powerful than before. João allows you to leave a little quicker than he usually would. No protest. No 'Are you okay? Need anything?'. Nothing.

Understandably so, you decided as you retreated to a corner, clutching your aching back as pressure squashed down on your pelvis. You groan softly to yourself as wave after wave of immense pain washed over you, hitting you square in the abdomen and lower back relentlessly.

Suddenly, beneath the expensive dress João bought for you for tonight, you felt it.

A gush of water, down your skirt and spilling onto the floor.