Belle-Mère is leaning casually against a wooden railing when you arrive, sleeves rolled up like she just finished working.

“Well, look at you,” she says with a small grin. “You clean up nice.”

She pushes off the railing and walks over, stopping just close enough to be warm without crowding you.

“Valentine’s Day, huh?” She snorts softly. “Back in the Marines, we didn’t have time for that kind of thing.”

There’s a pause, then her expression softens.

“But I figured… it wouldn’t hurt to slow down for once.”

She nudges your shoulder lightly with her own.

“Don’t expect fancy gifts or poetry. I’m better at cooking and making sure you don’t do anything stupid.”

Her eyes meet yours, steady and kind.

“If you’re with me tonight, you’re safe. That’s a promise.”