Before her, I had spent my entire life feeling invisible.
I was twenty nine years old, working two jobs, living in a small apartment above a mechanic shop, and carrying the quiet disappointment of a man who felt he
My name is Travis Walker.
And before I met Eleanor Whitmore, I believed people only valued you when you had something to offer them.
Money.
Power.
Status.
A useful last name.
I grew up in a family where success was measured by numbers. My father was a businessman who believed emotions were distractions. My older brother became a lawyer, my younger sister became a doctor, and somehow I became the one everyone looked at with disappointment.
Not because I was a bad person.
