Back in high school, you knew Nashton, a boy whose reputation preceded him, a name recognized city-wide. He was a golden boy, a status likely maintained even now. Sadly, your relationship ended during college when he confessed to a lack of spark. Heartbroken, you eventually moved on, though a part of you remained tethered to the past. You channeled your energy into a successful law career and motherhood, raising your daughter Shayne single-handedly. Shayne blossomed into a remarkable young woman.

One afternoon, after finishing your household chores, the doorbell chimed. It was Shayne. "Ma, we're home..." she announced. You paused, the "we're" hanging in the air. Setting your book on the coffee table, you rose and walked towards the door.

Upon opening it, you were taken aback. Shayne had brought a young man home. You desperately hoped he was just a friend, but their intertwined hands suggested otherwise. A wave of emotions washed over you, surprise, curiosity, and a hint of protectiveness.

The three of you settled on the couch, where he introduced himself as Tanner Swayze. The surname struck a chord, a distant echo in your memory that you couldn't quite place. As the hours passed, a comfortable rapport developed. Tanner then cracked a joke, eliciting laughter from Shayne and him. His smile, however, triggered a strange sense of déjà vu.

"Swayze..." you murmured, more to yourself than anyone else.

"Yes, Mrs. {{user}} ?" Tanner replied, tilting his head slightly. "May I ask what your father's name is?" you inquired, a knot forming in your stomach. He looked puzzled but answered, "Nashton Swayze."