When she realized it had been less than five minutes since she had checked the clock the last time, Shannon got up and turned it to the wall. Where the hell was he? Her whole body was crawling with anxiety. She couldn't relax, couldn't sit still. God, she needed a drink.
She hadn't been like this all day. Shopping had distracted her for most of the morning. But the lunch with a few friends she hadn't seen yet wasn't as entertaining as she'd hoped. Playing dodge ball with questions about the island was losing its appeal. Less than a month and being back from the dead was already getting old.
After lunch she met with Sabrina to discuss some details for Boone's memorial service. Sabrina brought a box of pictures and old photo albums and they picked out what they wanted to use. Shannon let Sabrina do most of the choosing, simply nodding when her step-mother showed her something. Agreement seemed to be all Sabrina wanted from her any how.
The anxiety surfaced when she returned to the hotel. There was nothing to do except think. She tried to read, did her nails, sat at the pool for awhile, but nothing took her mind off of what Sayid was doing right now.
She got up and paced the room. Yes, she knew he probably wasn't able to see Nadia until she got home from work, but it was almost 10:00. What was taking so frickin' long? What if he didn't come back tonight? Where was he?
The notepad on the desk caught her eye. Where was it she saw someone do this? Some "CSI" or "Law and Order" episode? You could rub over the blank sheet and read what someone had written on the sheet above it. She needed a pencil. Damn! Only pens in the desk, and in her purse. Lipstick wouldn't work either. She rummaged in the bag again. Eyebrow pencil? It was worth a try. The island had at least made her resourceful. Carefully she used the side of the pencil to shade the paper and bring out the imprint. Soon the phone number and address were clear.
OK. I'm not some psycho. She told herself. I'll wait half an hour. Ten minutes later she picked up the phone and dialed the number. She hung up before she heard it ring, but minutes later, she dialed again. This time someone picked up on the first ring.
"Hello?" A woman's voice, with a slight accent. Nadia?
Shannon said nothing.
"Hello? Who is this?" Annoyance or apprehension now, then a click.
Crap! She didn't know any more than she had before and now she felt like she was back in high school. Great. Just great.
She flopped on the couch, turned on the television and began flicking quickly through the channels, not seeing anything, just trying to keep her mind from racing. She wasn't sure how long it had been when she heard the key in the door. She made a sudden decision, pulled her legs up, lay her head on the arm of the couch, and pretended to be asleep.
His hand brushed her hair as he walked past. She could tell he was being careful not to wake her. The bedroom door clicked open and shut behind him. A few minutes later she heard the shower running.
Sayid turned the water on as hot as he could stand it and stepped into the spray. He was relieved that Shannon was asleep, or pretending to be. He wanted to delay this conversation as long as possible. All the way home on the train he agonized over how to tell her about Yasmin. It would change things. There wasn't any easy way around it
Before he left her, he told Nadia all of it, save for polar bears and monsters-in-the-jungle. The plane crash, the island, life there, and Shannon. Nadia had taken it all in, and although he could tell that hearing about Shannon wasn't pleasant, Nadia hadn't shown any anger or given him the idea that she expected him to drop everything for her.
He stepped out of the shower and dried off. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he considered going into the other room and waking Shannon up, getting it over with, but he was too tired. He lay down, but the whirlwind in his head wouldn't let him sleep. He never would have imagined himself in this position. So many "what ifs". If he had found Nadia in London, if the plane hadn't crashed, if Boone hadn't died. He did not believe in fate, but it seemed other forces were at work here. He would like to have a long conversation with whoever was pulling the strings.
Instead, sighing, he got up and walked into the other room. Sitting down beside her, he shook Shannon gently. She looked up at him.
"When did you get back?"
"Awhile ago. You were already asleep."
She looked away. "Not really."
"Shannon, I found out something today that you need to know." Sayid got up from the couch and walked around the room. Just say it. He thought. He took a deep breath.
"I have a daughter. She's eight years old. Her name is Yasmin."
He kept his eyes on Shannon's face. The news didn't seem to register at first, then her eyes narrowed.
"What?" She spat. "You have a daughter? With her, with Nadia?" She stood up, folding her arms across her chest.. "People don't have children with "old friends", Sayid. They have children with wives and lovers." She started toward him.. "Why did you lie to me?"
He was prepared for tears, but he hadn't expected this. Unconsciously, he backed away from her, but she kept coming. "Shannon, I stopped believing we would ever get off the island. I didn't think it mattered what the nature of my relationship with Nadia was. I thought it was in the past."
"You didn't think I could handle it." . She snapped, shoving him.
"No." He said honestly. " I didn't. He didn't like being pushed around , but he resisted the urge to grab her. Instead he snapped back. "Tell me, Shannon, were you honest with me about all of your relationships?" He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.
Shannon stared at him for a moment. Then she walked into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. He heard drawers opening and shutting. He sat on the couch and put his head in his hands.
A few minutes later Shannon came out with a suitcase. "Sabrina offered me a place to stay. I'm taking her up on it."
"It's the middle of the night, Shannon." He said wearily.
"I don't care." She walked to the door. "This isn't all my stuff. I'll get the rest tomorrow."
"Don't go."
"Why?" She was crying now, but there was no sadness in her voice, only anger. "Why shouldn't I go? Are you going to tell me you love me? That we'll work this out? That you don't have any feelings for Nadia? No, Sayid, you can't tell me any of that, can you?"
He looked at the floor. "No, I can't." He went to her and tried to put his arms around her.
"No." She said, pushing him away again. "I can't compete with 'St. Nadia'. I'm not going to stick around to see who you choose. Take me out of the equation. I'm done." She left, and the door clicked shut behind her.