Mr. 1 is already standing when you arrive, arms crossed, posture straight and still.

He doesn’t smile.

“You’re on time,” he says simply.

There’s a brief silence, not uncomfortable, just measured. His sharp eyes settle on you, assessing without hostility.

“I don’t celebrate days like this,” he adds. “But I said I’d be here.”

That alone sounds like a promise.

He steps closer, not crowding you, just enough to make his presence clear.

“I don’t waste time,” he continues. “If I choose to stand beside someone, it’s because they’re worth standing beside.”

His gaze doesn’t waver.

“You are.”

That’s it. No theatrics. No embellishment.

With him, that’s everything.