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Back The Long and Winding Road
Chapters (31)
  1. The Long and Winding Road
  2. Table of Contents
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. Prologue: Or, Where Bear Answers the Door
  6. PAST
  7. 1. Where Bear Makes the Wrong Assumption
  8. 2. Where Bear Finds Out
  9. 3. Where Bear Makes a Decision
  10. 4. Where Bear Learns the Art of Breathing
  11. 5. Where Bear Has Bro-Time with Creed
  12. PRESENT
  13. 6. Where Bear Attends the Most Awkward Homecoming Ever
  14. 7. Where Bear Tells Tyson Everything
  15. 8. Where Bear Makes a Promise
  16. 9. Where Bear Goes to Lamaze Class
  17. 10. Where Bear Gets Advice About His Sex Life
  18. 11. Where Bear and Otter Role-Play at a Hotel Bar
  19. 12. Where Bear Faces the Reality of Married Life
  20. 13. Where Bear Sees Everything Change
  21. FUTURE
  22. 14. The Long and Winding Road
  23. Epilogue: Or, Otter’s Perspective, As It Were
  24. Coda
  25. No. Absolutely not. No way.
  26. More from TJ Klune
  27. Readers love the Bear, Otter, and the Kid Chronicles by TJ Klune
  28. About the Author
  29. By TJ Klune
  30. Visit Dreamspinner Press
  31. Copyright

But according to Otter, it’s just too much.

I know he regrets the words. I can see that, the way his mouth is opening and closing, and maybe I can understand it. Maybe I can get why he could say such a thing, because it is hard. We have a lot of plates up in the air, and things seem to be hurtling toward this inevitable conclusion that we started all those months ago.

We all say things we don’t mean when we’re angry. It happens. It’s life.

The problem is a thirteen-year-old girl that lives with us makes a wounded noise from the entrance to the kitchen, neither of us knowing that she’d come back down the stairs at some point.

We both turn toward her. She’s standing there, tense, mouth thin. She’s such a little guy, fiery and fierce and oh so fucking smart. She’s a goddamn handful, but she’s ours. She belongs here with us. Not legally, not yet, not completely, but it’s getting there. The social worker visits have gone well. She’s happy and healthy, and yeah, sometimes she wakes up screaming with nightmares that she can’t quite articulate, tiny shoulders shaking, little hands clutching at my back as I hold her helplessly, but they’re getting better. They’re getting less and less, and she’s funny, okay? She’s sarcastic and biting, able to go toe to toe with the Kid any day of the week. And there are moments, strange little moments where I think that maybe she’s starting to love us as much as we love her.

Otter’s right: it hasn’t been easy. But nothing worth having ever is. Our entire fucking lives have shown us that, time and time again. It hasn’t always been fair, but we’ve made it this far, and we’re so close to having everything we wanted, everything we’ve worked so hard for.

This won’t break us. I won’t let it.

But that doesn’t mean I’m not pissed the hell off.

“Izzie—” I start, but she’s already gone from the kitchen, the stairs creaking as she runs up them. Her bedroom door slams shut, and a moment later, loud jazz music starts to echo through the house because my little sister is weird and doesn’t listen to shitty fucking boy band music like all the other girls her age. She’s not like them. She’s like us, and I almost feel bad about that, knowing just how screwed up Ty and I can be. It’s not fair to her that she has to be like us.