Defying Fate: The Unstoppable Eileen novel Chapter 413

Eileen frowned as she compared her palm with Egbert’s, lining them up side by side.

After a while, she gave up and sighed, “Forget it. Let’s revisit this when I’m 140.”

Egbert chuckled softly and, without missing a beat, entwined his fingers with hers.

Eileen immediately pulled her hand away, unmoved, and distracted herself by opening a bag of dried fruit. With her mouth full, she mumbled, “Take a look at this album. The last two pages both have photos with Blue Cheese in them.”

Egbert dutifully flipped through the album.

This wasn’t Eileen’s childhood photo album—it belonged to Captain Nathan when he was a boy. Every page told a story from Nathan’s childhood: his first birthday, his first trip to a photographer’s studio, his first day at school, his first award, and, of course, his first time getting into trouble.

Egbert paused when he reached a photo of a little boy hiding under the sofa, one eye swollen, hands pinching his ears, looking thoroughly miserable.

Eileen leaned over for a look and explained, “Oh, that one. My grandma told me my dad got into a fight with another boy in class because he wanted to sit next to the girl class president. Dad ended up with one black eye, and the other boy? Both of his were swollen shut.”

Egbert wasn’t sure how to respond. After a moment, he managed, “Everyone’s immature at that age.”

Eileen’s eyes widened. “What’s immature about that? If you like someone, fight for them! And my dad only got one black eye, while the other kid got two—that just proves he was born a martial arts prodigy!”

Egbert pressed his lips together. There was really no need for that much exaggeration.

He silently turned the page—and then stopped, again.

Eileen perked up with renewed energy. “Oh! This one—Dad was six and still wetting the bed! Grandpa took this photo right when he woke up and realized what he’d done. Look at him, crying his eyes out!”

Egbert looked over. Eileen was trying very hard not to grin. He arched an eyebrow. “You look awfully pleased about that.”

Eileen cleared her throat, trying to hide a smirk. “Mainly because I stopped wetting the bed at one, and my dad was still at it at six! He tried to claim it was ‘one lesson longer than six classes’ or something.”

Egbert gave her a perplexed look. “What does that even mean?”

He kept flipping through the album, feeling increasingly out of his depth as the stories continued.

Next, Eileen pointed out, “See this one? Dad was nine, tried to climb a tree to get a bird’s nest like the other boys, but the mother bird caught him and pecked his head until he fell and broke his arm.”

Egbert shook his head in disbelief.

“And here,” Eileen continued, “this is Dad in sixth grade, when the school put on a play, and he drew the lead role—Cinderella. Grandma sewed him a dress for the part.”

She pointed to photo after photo: “This is him trying on the dress. This is him tearing it to shreds. And here’s the aftermath—because he destroyed the costume, the whole play was canceled, the class got a stern lecture from the principal, and everyone glared daggers at him.”

Egbert let out a slow breath. “Maybe we don’t need to go through every detail.”

Eileen smiled, lost in nostalgia. “I know every story in here by heart. Grandpa and Grandma told them every year, never letting anyone forget—ever.”

Egbert flipped through a few more pages. “Let’s just see if we can find Blue Cheese.”

He scanned the pages for a while, then frowned. “Where’s the cat?”

Eileen hesitated, then pointed at a photo. “Here—the white tip of the tail is Blue Cheese. And here, that blur? That’s Blue Cheese too.”

Egbert was quiet for a moment. “Usually, we only call it a ‘cat photo’ if you can actually tell there’s a cat in the picture.”