Page 46 of Don't Let Your Mind Go There

“Dad?”

I stopped, not moving away before unlike I had intended just seconds ago. “Yes, sweetheart?”

“Did you like what I wrote in my diary?” she asked, her eyes filled with hope. She had always wanted me to like what she did. She needed my affirmation, no matter when or what for, and I always made sure to give it to her.

Still, there were times I couldn’t give in and tell her everything was fine when they clearly weren’t.

I smiled gently and brushed strands of hair out of her face. “Let’s not talk about that here.”

She wasn’t happy with my answer, but as always, she simply nodded and accepted my words and moved right along.

***

Tate didn’t talk much.

Not usually.

She was more of a writer, which she proved with that diary.

She had been writing in it for months, and before that one’s pages were covered in ink, she filled six more diaries, writing down every thought she had throughout the years.

I didn’t read them all, but I did flip through some of them whenever Tate wasn’t home. There was some twisted shit in those diaries, but I didn’t judge her for it. Like Dr. Dalton had said, it wasn’t easy for kids to experience a divorce, and everyone handled it differently.

While Tate wrote down her thoughts, her brother had fled from home.

Ronan hadn’t been home in almost four years, and he had no intent on coming back. Ainsley had moved out of the house and found herself an apartment closer to the city center, and I was left alone with Tate.

We were happy though.

We were very much alike, and even when we spent a day sitting in silence, it was never awkward.

The movie she had chosen was almost over. It was one we had watched many times before. She found comfort in the same things, and as long as she had a structured life, she was happy.

I looked over at her, watching her for a moment before I cleared my throat to grab her attention. “You done here?” I asked, pointing at the half-eaten burger on the coffee table.

“Yes.” Her voice was small. “Thank you.”

I gathered all the wrappers and napkins and brought them to the kitchen where I disposed of them, then I grabbed myself a beer out of the fridge. “Want another iced tea, sweetheart?”

“No, thank you.”

I went back to the couch and sat down next to her, and as the credits on the screen started rolling, I turned more toward her, wanting to talk. I reached for her hand and earned her full attention. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

She shrugged. She couldn’t find the right words, but her eyes were telling me enough. She was confused, unsure. Yet, she was content.

I took a deep breath and caressed the palm of her hand with my fingers. “I’m sorry I denied you another session with Dr. Dalton, but I don’t think you need to go back there again. Not after the way your mother reacted.”

Tate nodded slowly, with her brows furrowing.

“Or do you still want to go? If you still need to talk to Dr. Dalton, I’ll call her tomorrow and get you another appointment. I just don’t think you need to see her anymore. I think you’re ready to talk to me about everything.”

I never had the intention to manipulate her, but that’s exactly what I was doing. But I was doing it for her own good. I could tell she needed something to change, and I wanted to be that change for her.

“I think so too,” she whispered, her lips curling up into a small smile. “I’d rather talk to you. I think you understand me better. Dr. Dalton always looks at me with disgust when I talk to her.”

I figured as much.

I smiled at her and squeezed her hand gently before lifting it up to my lips and pressing a kiss to her fingers. “You know you can always talk to me. I never came to you because I didn’t want to push you. Didn’t want to urge you to talk to me when you weren’t ready. But I’m here, okay? Just say the word and we’ll talk.”

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