Page 45 of Don't Let Your Mind Go There

She left the room, and Tate jumped at the slam of the door. I looked at her and saw all kinds of emotions in her eyes. She was angry but relieved that her mother left.

Dr. Dalton got up from her chair, and I watched her as she stepped closer to me, handing me Tate’s diary. “I’m really sorry, Mr. Peters, but I don’t think I can finish reading this. I would still like to talk with Tate about the things she wrote, but I would like to do that with her alone.”

I looked at the diary, taking it from her hand before looking up at her. I didn’t answer to what she said last. “I’m sorry for how my ex-wife acted. It’s unlike her. I apologize on her behalf.”

“It’s okay. I can’t say that I have had patients like your daughter before, or that I have dealt with a family issue this…concerning. But I’ll do my best to help your daughter.” She stepped away and locked her fingers in front of her, smiling tightly.

I watched her for a moment before looking over at Tate. She looked way more relaxed without Ainsley in the room, and I decided it was a good time for us to go home. I got up from my chair and looked at Dr. Dalton again, needing to ask one more question.

“Do you believe that Tate has written all those things because of her mother and I splitting?”

She looked over at Tate with a soft expression. As hard as it was for her to understand the sick and twisted mind Tate had, and as uncomfortable as it was to read through that diary, she always made sure that she was in a safe space.

Her eyes met mine again, and she kept her voice low when she said, “Yes, I do believe that it is the main reason. Most kids who witness their parents’ divorce have difficulties dealing with.”

Tate wasn’t a kid anymore. She was twenty-two, but Ainsley and I had been fighting for the past six years.

Tate and Ronan had lived through it all. Every single argument we had, they were there, watching it all happen, and watching the love Ainsley and I once had for each other slowly fade.

We had fought so much that I couldn’t even remember the reason why we started fighting in the first place.

I felt bad for my kids. I still felt bad. But with Ronan gone, it was easier to focus on Tate alone. Tate was my priority, and I wanted for her to get better.

I smiled and gave Dr. Dalton a tight handshake. It was probably the last time I’d see her. In fact, I wasn’t so sure I wanted Tate to come back here again. It’s been too many months of her trying to help Tate, but nothing changed.

I had to take matters into my own hands.

I would heal her. Help her get better and show her that the things she wrote down weren’t as sick as they seemed.

“Tate, come on. Let’s go home.”

She got up from her chair and looked at Dr. Dalton with a small smile. “Goodbye, Dr. Dalton,” she said, holding out her hand to her.

“You did great, Tate. I’ll see you again next week.”

“No, you won’t.” I looked at Dr. Dalton. “I think Tate will need a break from therapy for a while. I will call you when she’s ready to come talk to you again.”

“Oh, of course. That’s no problem. I think you as her father know what’s best for her. Good luck,” she said, smiling tightly.

As we exited the room, Tate turned back around to say one more thing to Dr. Dalton. “I’m sorry if my diary upset you. I think you’ll be okay though. You’re a therapist after all. You can help yourself.”

Dr. Dalton chuckled nervously, unsure how she should react to Tate’s statement. “I’ll be okay,” she assured her.

I placed my hand on Tate’s back and guided her down the hallway and out of the building, and once we reached the car, I turned her toward me to make her look at me.

I observed her for a moment, making sure that she was okay, but she seemed fine to me. I placed both hands on her cheeks, softly caressing her skin with my thumbs. “How about we go get something to eat and head home, watch a movie, maybe? What do you think, sweetheart?”

She smiled up at me and tilted her head more to the side. “Sounds good, Dad.”

“Okay. What do you want to eat? Tacos? I know how much you love tacos.”

“Mm, no, I don’t want tacos. I’d rather have a cheeseburger, I think.”

“McDonalds, then?”

“Yes, please.”

I leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Let’s go.”

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