Chapter 164 Sins of Former Days

Chapter 164 Sins of Former Days

Stephanie's POV

He stood at the edge of the streetlight's glow, wearing a dark coat. His frame looked thin, his whole appearance utterly haggard.

I froze mid-motion.

It was Lorenzo.

Christopher's brow furrowed, and he immediately moved to step outside.

I gently caught his arm. After a few seconds of silence, I set down the brochure I'd been holding and walked out.

Lorenzo's body stiffened at the sound of the door opening. His gaze shifted from the gallery's lit windows to me.

Without glass between us, I could see him clearly.

He'd lost so much weight since I'd seen him months ago. The streetlight made his eyes glisten, but that cocky, carefree air he used to carry had completely vanished.

"Stephanie." After a long pause, he spoke, his voice hoarse.

"How are you out of jail?" I asked.

"Good behavior. Early release," he answered. "Only served two months."

"I see." I didn't continue the conversation.

He stayed quiet for a while before speaking again.

"I wasn't planning to bother you. I just happened to see Emily's post about your exhibition. I saw your paintings—didn't dare go inside. I just... wanted to apologize to you in person."

When he finished, he lowered his eyes.

Silence stretched between us like an impenetrable wall.

I suddenly realized that so many memories of the past were slowly fading.

I could barely remember what we'd been like together.

There must have been happy moments, but I couldn't recall a single detail.

"I don't need your apology." After a long standoff, I finally spoke.

"I know." He nodded. "I know I did a lot of things that hurt you. I know you don't need me to apologize. But I had to say it out loud."

His voice grew even more hoarse.

"These past months in lockup, I've thought about it over and over. About the things I said, the things I did—I couldn't understand why I took everyone else's side when you were at your lowest. I used to think it was because of Jessica, but later I realized the problem was me all along. I was so desperate to prove myself that I lost what I should never have let go. I've thought about it for so long, never had the chance to tell you. I'm not here asking for forgiveness—I just wanted you to know I've truly reflected on everything."

"So what do you want from me now?" I looked at him.

He lifted his head to meet my gaze. After a long silence, he asked quietly, "Are you really going to be with my uncle?"

"Yes." I didn't hesitate. "We're getting married soon."

His eyes widened slightly, surprise flooding his face.

But just seconds later, he pulled his lips into a faint, bitter smile.

"I kind of guessed... just held onto a little hope, I guess. Never mind." He shook his head.

"He's a good man. So much better than me. I hope you'll both be happy."

With that, he took half a step back, about to turn and leave.

"Lorenzo." I called out to stop him.

He paused and looked back at me.

"At this point, we're completely done." My tone was calm. "I won't forgive you, but I won't hold it against you anymore either. I don't have the energy to dwell on the past—I have a whole new life ahead of me. From now on, don't bring up our history. If we see each other again, we're just distant acquaintances."

He stood there with his eyes downcast, looking utterly dejected. Finally, he just gave a small nod.

Then he turned and walked slowly down the street, his figure growing smaller and smaller until it disappeared completely into the night.

I stood there as the evening breeze brushed my face, tousling my hair and obscuring half my vision.

I lifted my hand to push the strands away, my emotions tangled—I couldn't quite name the feeling.

It was like rewatching an old movie whose ending I already knew, pulling out those dusty memories. My heart still felt a little damp, but the heavy, suffocating pain from before was gone.

"Stephanie?" A familiar voice came from behind me.

I turned around.

Christopher was standing in the gallery doorway, watching me.

I walked over to his side and said softly, "Lorenzo just apologized to me."

"Mm." He acknowledged without pressing for details.

"He said he's truly reflected on everything."

"Mm."

"He also wished us happiness."

"Mm."

"I told him we're getting married soon."

At that, he finally reacted. He turned his head toward me, the corner of his mouth lifting into a faint smile. "And then?"

"Then he left."

After listening, Christopher gently smoothed my windblown hair back into place.

"Let's go home."

Three days after the exhibition ended, I returned to campus to report for duty.

Sunlight filtered through the familiar tree-lined paths, the play of light and shadow almost identical to when I'd left months ago.

I followed the path to the gym entrance, pushed the door open, and was hit with the familiar smell of rubber flooring.

Everything here was exactly as it had been during my training days, yet when I closed my eyes and thought back, those days of pouring sweat in this place felt like they'd happened years ago.

Deborah was already waiting inside. When she saw me enter, she smiled and waved, then gestured to a group of girls beside her.

"This is your new coach, Stephanie Johnson," she introduced me.

"You've probably all heard of her—campus legend from last year's graduating class." Deborah turned to me with a teasing smile.

"She was also an incredibly talented cheer captain. If you learn even half of what she knows, you'll go far."

The group of girls turned to look at me in unison, their eyes full of curiosity and anticipation.

Looking at them, I saw my younger self.

I took a deep breath and walked to the center of the floor.

"Hi everyone, I'm Stephanie. I graduated from this school and trained right here. I can't promise I'll be perfect, but I'll do my absolute best and take every class seriously."

As soon as I finished speaking, someone laughed softly. A short-haired girl called out loudly, "Don't worry! We're super easy to work with!"

The teammate next to her immediately gave her a light shove.

Deborah, standing on the sidelines, couldn't help but smile.

The first class went much more smoothly than I'd expected.

Even though I hadn't trained in a long time, I'd repeated these movements countless times—they were second nature.

But going from training myself to leading a team felt completely different.

I had to explain every point of force, every rhythm change in detail, watch each team member's form and weaknesses, and give timely encouragement when they got the moves right.

In that moment, I finally understood exactly how Deborah must have felt all those years.

By the time class ended, dusk was approaching.

After seeing off all the team members, I gathered my things and prepared to leave.

But just as I walked out the gym doors, I heard a commotion—angry voices arguing up ahead.