Chapter Eight— The Weight of Honor

It was one of those rare weekends when everyone scattered.

Ellis went home to her parents. Colton and Amelia were off at some study event together. Trey and Callum disappeared into the city for a party.

The campus was quiet — too quiet.

Micah hated quiet. It gave his thoughts room to echo.

He decided to join Ellis and drove to his parents’ house just outside of town. 

The drive home was quiet — too quiet. The hum of the old Honda filled the space where his thoughts should’ve stopped. Every red light felt like an eternity; every song on the radio seemed to say her name in some way.

Amelia.

Micah rolled the window down halfway, letting the late September air bite against his skin. He shouldn’t be thinking about her. Not like this. Not when she belonged to someone else.

When he turned onto his parents’ street, the world softened a little. 

The porch light was on, soft and yellow against the fading daylight. Inside, the smell of carne guisada drifted from the kitchen, and laughter spilled from inside the house.

 before he even got out of the car.

He almost smiled.

“¡Mijo!” His mother’s voice carried through the screen door before he even stepped inside. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home?”

“Wanted to surprise you,” he said, hugging her tight. She smelled like flour and soap — like safety.

Ellis,”decided to join us after all” following behind their mother.

Micah grinning “yeah thought it would do me some good after all, the campus was a dessert.”

Micah’s mom smiling back,

“Your brother’s here,” she added, lowering her voice like it was something holy. “Just got in this morning. You should go see him — he’s out back with your papá.”

Micah’s heart beating through his chest. Mateo. It had been nearly 3 years. The army had hardened him — not in a cruel way, but in the way life hardens a rock into something unbreakable.

When Micah stepped onto the porch, he found Mateo sitting with their father, laughing about something in low Spanish murmurs, beer bottles sweating in the fading light. The scene looked like a snapshot of something he’d forgotten he needed — warmth, familiarity, home.

Home from the army. Older, broader, a little more humble than Micah remembered. His uniform jacket hung over the back of a chair, sleeves folded with military precision.

“Micah!” Mateo grinned, pulling him into a hug. “Look at you, college boy.”

Micah chuckled softly. “Didn’t think you’d be back so soon.”

“Two-week leave. Thought I’d surprise mamá.”

They sat on the porch later, beers in hand, watching the last of the sun sink behind the trees. Cicadas hummed in the distance. The easy silence between brothers stretched — until Mateo finally glanced over.

“You’ve got that look again.”

“What look?”

“The one that means there’s a girl.”

Micah smirked faintly, shaking his head. “You’ve been home five hours, and you already think you know my life.”

“I don’t think,” Mateo said, “I know. So… who is she?”

Micah leaned back against the railing, eyes on the yard. For a moment, he didn’t answer. Then, quietly —

“She’s… different.”

Mateo raised a brow. “Different how?”

Micah exhaled, staring at the beer bottle in his hand.

“She doesn’t try to be liked, but everyone notices her anyway. She says what she thinks, even when it’s not pretty. She writes — all the time — like she’s trying to bleed the truth out of herself. I don’t even think she knows how captivating she is.”

Mateo smiled faintly. “Sounds like someone’s fallen hard.”

Micah gave a short, humorless laugh. “I shouldn’t have. She’s with someone. Colton. He’s… decent, I guess. She seems happy.”

“Seems?” Mateo asked, catching the word.

Micah’s silence answered for him.

“She laughs when he’s around,” Micah said finally. “But it’s different when she’s alone. I see her when she thinks no one’s watching — quiet, distant, like she’s somewhere else entirely. I just… want to protect her from everything that hurts her. From everything that doesn’t see her the way I do.”

Mateo nodded slowly, eyes thoughtful. “You love her.”

Micah’s jaw flexed. “I don’t know if it’s love.”

“You do.”

He said nothing. The sky deepened into indigo.

Mateo took a long drink, then set the bottle down between them. “You know, in the army, honor’s not just about medals or orders. It’s about restraint. About knowing when to fight — and when to stand down.”

Micah looked over, expression unreadable.

Mateo continued, voice steady but gentle. “You don’t come between a man and what’s his, no matter how much you want to. If you care about her — really care — you respect her choices. You respect him, too. You wait. You let things unfold how they’re meant to. That’s what makes you honorable.”

Micah swallowed hard, the word honorable sitting heavy in his chest.

He’d always wanted to live by that — by something good. But the more he saw Amelia, the harder it became to separate right from want.

Mateo clapped a hand to his shoulder. “If it’s real, it won’t disappear. But don’t ruin yourself trying to take it.”

Micah nodded faintly, his throat tight.

When the weekend was over and he drove back to campus, the sky was a mirror of his mind — dark, scattered with stars that looked close enough to touch but weren’t.

He told himself to let it go.

To stay quiet. To stay good.

But as soon as he parked near the dorms, he saw her again — walking out of the library, hair loose, notebook pressed to her chest.

She smiled when she saw him. “You back already?”

He smiled too, gentle but distant. “Yeah. Just visiting family.”

“Nice,” she said, stepping closer. “You look… at ease.”

If only she knew.

As she passed, he caught a whiff of her shampoo — vanilla and rain — and every piece of advice his brother gave him burned like fire.

Honor had never felt so impossible.