Chapter Twenty-Eight
Isla's POV
No matter how much I looked at it, I couldn't feel any spark. I felt nothing. To me it was just a plain picture, a painting that held no memory. No headaches, no familiar feeling of recognition, no longing, nothing. It felt I was just staring at a painting in an art exhibition with a very terrible artist.
The wedding pictures screamed exotic. The wedding journal, even the venue in the background looked as if it cost millions. The jewelry I was wearing could feed an entire orphanage, the heels were looking so expensive to be real. Everything about me that day screamed elegance but the more I stared at it, it looked so fictional.
I felt as if I was staring at myself in a drama, and I couldn't even recognize who was standing before me. It was like a diffe
