Three weeks had passed since Desmond had last spoken to Claire. He had since integrated himself among the crash survivors and built a tent with help from Charlie and Hurley gathering scrap material. Claire was usually in the company of Sun or Charlie but when she was alone she stayed close to her tent alternating between tending to Aaron and vigorously writing in her journal. He often wondered what she wrote about that was so engrossing.
Claire completely avoided him now and even though he didn't know her very well, she seemed to be acting completely out of character. Throughout the endless days, he found himself casting glances in her direction. Once, he could have sworn he caught her looking at him before she quickly looked away. Although he had taken a liking to Charlie, he couldn't help but wonder if Charlie had forbade Claire to talk to him.
Desmond strayed from camp at least once a day and always ended up in the same place—the site of his last conversation with Claire. The main reason he liked this particular spot was its seclusion, nonetheless he found himself secretly hoping that she would return.
At night, the dreams of his past continued, sometimes a different version of the same dream, but his conversation with the old woman from the jewelry shop remained constant. He would always insist, I'm going to spend the rest of my life with her! She would then look at him calmly with those intense blue eyes and reply, No, Desmond. You're not. As much as he wanted to disbelieve her, the images of Penny in his dreams gradually began to fade. He would sit and stare at her picture, reminiscent of their time together but even his conscious perception of her was becoming less vivid. As hard as he tried to focus on his memories of Penny, thoughts of Claire would always wander into his mind before he realized it and pushed them away. It was like trying to read a book that did not grab his interest only immeasurably more frustrating.
He had to stop. He was driving himself mad. I'm in love with Penny and besides, I would never dream of stealing another man's woman. But as soon as he would allow himself to relax, there she was, consuming his thoughts once more.
Claire and Rose were hand washing clothes in a trough that was handmade by Locke from a large sheet of plastic and dried bamboo shoots that were tied together. Charlie and Hurley had taken Aaron for a walk as she fell into the no-so-normalcy of domestic bliss on the island. She had heard of women being content in Stepford-like existences, married to men for conveniences of one kind or another. One thing all of these women had in common was their comfortable, passionless lives. Am I becoming a bored housewife living in a twisted suburban hell?
"Claire?" Rose interrupted her thoughts. "I've lost you again."
Claire realized she had completely zoned out in the middle of Rose's spill about her preference of detergent brands. "Oh, sorry."
"Honey, are you okay? It seems like you've been in a daze for the past few weeks. Is something on your mind?"
"I'm fine, I just…" she started to deny there was in fact something eating away inside her but then she thought of sitting on the porch with Aunt Millie in Sydney and decided to open up to Rose. "Actually, there is."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
She felt the helpless confusion of her too quickly forgotten youth come flooding back. "Yeah, I do."
"Let's take a walk." Rose wrung the wet garment she was washing and threw it over the line to dry.
When she and Claire ventured a short distance and found a spot on the beach out of earshot of the other survivors, they sat down near the water's edge.
"So what's on your mind?" Rose cut to the chase but looked out toward the horizon as if to let Claire know she had her ear but wasn't pressuring her to talk.
"Mainly Charlie…don't get me wrong, he's great but something's missing. It just doesn't feel…right."
Rose nodded. "And what else?"
Claire gave her a confused look. "What do you mean?"
"You said mainly Charlie. What's the rest of it?"
"Me, I guess…and these silly thoughts I have."
"Mm hmm." Rose continued to listen and gaze at the ocean.
"Sometimes I think about things and wish they were different. It's like there's something missing from my life…well, besides the obvious." Claire made a gesture as if to encompass the island.
"Something or someone?" asked Rose as she looked at Claire for the first time since they had sat down.
Claire finally broke down and told Rose about her thoughts of Desmond but her reluctance to acknowledge anything for fear of jeopardizing Aaron's well-being and her relationship with Charlie. She went on to talk about her "Stepford" theory and how she felt like compromising passion for stability was sometimes the right thing to do. "I care a great deal about Charlie but it seems like every day I spend pretending we're in a relationship, this void inside me gets bigger."
When Claire was finished talking, Rose was silent for a few moments. The gap in conversation made Claire uneasy. "Okay, what I just said made no sense whatsoever so…"
Rose interrupted Claire using a profound tone of voice. "When you were missing, Charlie didn't speak for days. One night before you returned to us, we sat together on this very beach and prayed. I know he cares about you very deeply and would do anything for you and Aaron. You can stay with him because it's the right thing to do but I'm telling you now that whether it's two months from now or two years from now, if it's not Desmond, it'll be somebody else. If you truly care about Charlie and value him as a person, you need to look inside yourself and decide right now if you can live this lie forever."
Long after Rose had left to go finish the laundry, Claire sat in the same spot, Rose's words still ringing in her ears, as she basked in the sound of the waves hitting the shore and the beauty of the sunset. She knew what she had to do.