He stared at what was left of dinner on his plate. Coming to the hotel restaurant was not his idea. He would have been happy to stay in the room and order room service. But Shannon had gone shopping and wanted to wear her new clothes and "be waited on, like a real person." So, wanting to make her happy, he agreed. They gave you way too much food though, and after the limited diet on the island, everything upset his stomach. Or maybe it was the piece of paper in his pocket with an address and phone number on it that was making him feel ill. Should he tell her?
"What's wrong?" She asked, looking at his plate. " I ate more than you. That's never happened before."
"Nothing's wrong. I'm just not hungry." He hated lying, but if he was going to tell her, he certainly wasn't going to do it here. Although, telling her in a public place might spare him a bad reaction.
She took a drink of wine. "Something's bothering you." He shook his head, but she knew he was thinking about the phone call, and she wondered if he had gotten the information he wanted. But she couldn't press it any further without cluing him in that she had eavesdropped, not on purpose, but still. So she decided to change the subject.
"Sabrina wants to have a memorial service for Boone. She wants me to help."
"How do you feel about that?"
"I probably should, but it seems like it all happened so long ago. Like it was another life. I'd rather forget about it."
"So what are you going to do?
"I don't know. Help her, I guess. She's being so nice, it's like she isn't even the same person."
"Neither are you."
"Thanks, I guess." She smiled.
He sat quietly for a moment, then he reached across the table and took her hand. Might as well get it over with. "I need to tell you something. Something I am going to do." It was important that she understood he wasn't asking permission.
She tried to keep her face neutral.
"I phoned Washington this morning. I have an address for her, for Nadia. I am going to go to see her." He stared at her, waiting for a reaction.
She pulled her hand away and finished her wine in one swallow. "What do you want me to say? Good luck?"
He could see that her defenses were back up. " I wanted you to know what I was doing. Isn't it better that I tell you?"
"I guess. Whatever." She picked her purse up off the floor and stood up. "I'm going back upstairs. All you have to do is sign. They'll charge everything to the room."
He watched her walk away. That had not gone well. But, what had he expected? What did he want? If he did, indeed, see Nadia tomorrow, what was the result he was looking for? An end to his searching and wondering? Yes. To find out if she still loved him? Perhaps. To find out if he still loved her? This gave him pause. Shouldn't he know that? Did he love Shannon? This too, he should know. But he didn't. Not definitely. Everything was out of focus. Right or wrong, he didn't know, wouldn't know until he finished what he had started eight years ago. Tomorrow.
The elevator doors closed. She pressed the button and leaned back against the wall. Breathe. Stay mad. She told herself. Do not cry. She took a deep breath. So he was finally going to see Nadia. Well, what was the worst thing that could happen? Another deep breath. He might decide to leave. Shannon thought she was prepared for that possibility.
On the island she was sure she loved him and he, her, but now? Things were different in the real world. They hadn't said the words since they were rescued. Was that weird? And Nadia? Shannon wouldn't even have known about her if Claire hadn't mentioned the pictures she'd found and given back to him. She had broken her "don't ask, don't tell rule" but all he would say was that her name was Nadia and she was an old friend he was looking for. Old friend, my ass.
Breathe. Damn, this elevator was slow! She fumbled in her purse for the inhaler. That's better. She needed to be rational. What if she could see Boone one more time? If she could talk to him, apologize, tell him how much she really loved him and appreciated all he did for her. Would she want to? Duh! Of course, even just to say goodbye. She couldn't deny Sayid the same thing she wanted for herself. She just wished she was sure that his visit was about saying goodbye to an old friend.
Sayid was not anxious to go back to the room. He thought it would be better to give Shannon some time to herself. Wandering around downtown Los Angeles was not appealing either. So he sat in the hotel bar, drinking coffee and pretending to be interested in the baseball game that was on TV. After awhile though, he decided this avoidance was cowardly, and made his way back upstairs.
The living room was empty and the door to the bedroom was shut. He didn't know if she wanted to see him, let alone sleep in the same bed, but he opened the door anyway. She was already asleep, or pretending to be. He sat down on the side of the bed, and smoothed back her hair. She opened her eyes and looked at him.
"Are you still angry?" He asked
"Who said I was angry?"
"If you are not angry, why did you leave the restaurant?"
"I didn't have anything more to say."
"Do you have something to say now?"
"No. There's nothing to talk about. I'd like to go back to sleep." She turned away from him and buried her face in the pillow.
He couldn't sleep next to her after that exchange, so he took a pillow, and the blanket from the closet and settled himself on the floor in the living room.
The next morning she was still sleeping while he got ready to leave. The concierge had told him he would need to take the metro and then a train to get to Ventura. "About an hour, give or take." He'd said.
Sayid knew that Nadia worked somewhere in Los Angeles. She probably wouldn't be home until later in the day. He wanted to get there early though. Early enough to find the address, so that he didn't have to worry that it was the wrong house. Early enough to spend some time there in the neighborhood to see if the place where she lived might tell him something about the person she had become.
He didn't want to leave without saying something to Shannon. He walked into the bedroom. She was awake, leaning back against the pillow thumbing through a magazine.
So, you're going now?" She asked without looking up.
"In a bit." He sighed. "What are you doing today?"
"Well, I'm not sitting around here waiting for you, if that's what you're wondering." Again, she kept her eyes on the magazine.
"I wouldn't expect you to." Still, she wouldn't look at him. "Shannon. Please." He walked over and took the magazine out of her hands. Sitting down he took both her hands in his. "I am sorry this hurts you. But it is something that I must do. I need to know. I have to see her to try to understand. Until the crash, until the island and all that happened there, my life was about finding her." He stopped.
"So, what's your life about now?" She looked at him, finally.
"That's what I'm trying to find out."