Connor and I didn't speak the entire time we were in Philadelphia. I could tell he was far too angry to listen to anything I had to say, so I left him alone. I gave him his space. I hoped his mood would improved when we got home, but it didn't. He still gave me the silent treatment after I picked Abby up from Myriam's. I didn't even try to talk to him while he spend time with his daughter. I wasn't going to risk upsetting her just to say I was sorry. A sentiment I knew he wouldn't respond kindly to in his current mood.

After all that, I expected Connor to go back to the main house. At least, for the night. But he surprised me by coming in the room as I was changing into my bed clothes. He waited for me to finish then stood, watching me expectantly, as though he felt I had something to say to him. I suppose I did have something to say to him, and now was the best time to say it.

"I'm sorry."

Connor stared at me. "Is that all you have to say?"

"It's all I'm going to say," I told him.

He nodded as though he expected me to say that. "Then you can listen while I speak."

I knew he was going to lecture me. I really didn't want to hear him out. What I wanted was for this to be done already. I didn't want to be told how I should have acted, how I should have behaved. I had a counter argument prepared for just such an speech. I was only dreading using it because I felt it would end our relationship.

Connor took a step toward me as I crossed my arms and waited for him to begin. "I understand you were concerned with my safety, Faith. But that was no reason for you to abandon our daughter and risk exposure by traveling to New York. Abigail deserves to have at least one of her parents with her at all times, and that cannot be me. Not right now. You understand this. You know why I serve the Brotherhood and you know my loyalty to them is unwavering."

I huffed. Connor pretended to ignore it.

"I have tried to remain dedicated to you, as well. To us. But you make it very difficult when you disrespect me in front of men who respect me. I will not be cussed by a woman who has made a promise to support me for doing what I feel is right. Never again. Not in public and not in private. Nor will I validate my responsibilities to you every time I am forced to leave. Being gone is hard enough without your scorn."

I looked at him. Connor didn't really look angry. He look hurt, irritated. But not furious. And his words were far from what I had thought they would be. He was talking normally to me, having a conversation. One sided as it was, it was still only a conversation. It wasn't an argument, yet. I knew it could become one easily. But that mostly depended on me. On how I reacted to being spoken to by him like this. By being reminded of what I had agreed to when we were wed.

"Is there anything you would like to say?" Connor asked me.

I nodded at him and he waited for me to consider how I would phrase my thoughts. It took longer than I would have liked. But what I said really wasn't worth all the trouble. It was simple.

"Don't ignore me."

Connor looked away. "Seeing you in New York," he said, "scared me."

He said that as though it was a miraculous revelation. I wasn't sure why. Fear was a natural response in many situations. That was how I felt, anyway. That was the logical way to look at it. Fear was rational. I was scared much of the time. I thought Connor was, too.

"I have never been that afraid of anything in my life," he said. "Of failing. Of losing. I did not know how to respond. That is why I ignored you."

"That's crazy," I told him.

"It is not crazy," Connor said. "I may have reacted poorly in the situation, but my fear was genuine and understandable. Had things not went as planned..." He glanced away. "I do not want you to watch me die, Faith. And I cannot watch-"

I understood what he meant then. It hit me how powerful fear can be. It can be paralyzing. It can control you if you let it. I was used to dealing with fear. I had been doing it all my life. Connor was different. He never felt fear. Not true fear. He had spent years learning how to suppress his emotions for missions, just as Achilles had advised me to do in New York. The old man had taught Connor that technique and he had perfected it. It made me realize why Connor was so compartmentalized as he was. He had to be, with what he did. Otherwise, he wouldn't be able to be an Assassin. He wouldn't be able to take the life of another human without it destroying his resolve.

The only thing I could think of to do when he announced that he was afraid of losing me was hug him. So I did. Not just because I loved him and wanted to reassure him that we were both still alive and safe. I also hugged him because I was happy we had been able to avoid letting this become a huge argument. We had spoken our feelings rationally, like adults. It gave me hope for our future together. Hope that we could understand one another with a limited amount of disagreements.

"I love you," I said.

"I love you, too," Connor replied. He pulled away and looked at me. "But there is something else I would like to speak to you about."

"What?" I asked, not really concerned.

"Do you truly wish to become an Assassin?"

I wondered if he was asking out of curiosity or if Achilles had told him that he had been training me. I couldn't tell any reason by his eyes. They were indistinct.

"Would it bother you if I did?" I asked him.

Connor thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yes."

His honestly shocked me. I guess it really shouldn't have. He was always very truthful. But it gave me pause in answering. I didn't want to displease him, but I wanted to be able to decided my own path.

"I don't know," I said honestly.

He didn't respond for a second. It made me wonder if I had upset him again. I hadn't wanted to.

"I understand," he said. "Then, do you plan to continue training until you make your decision?"

I stared at him. So the old man had tattled. It agitated me that he had went behind my back and told even though he knew I didn't want Connor to know. But it was wrong of me to try to deceive my husband. I guess I deserved to be told on.

"That depends," I told him. "Are you going to train me?"

Connor sighed in resignation. "If you would like for me to."

I knew it was something he didn't really want to do, but something he was willing to do. For me. He was being supportive and understanding. He was being a good husband. And I could thank him by being a good wife.

"It'll be kinda fun, though, won't it? Just the two of us. Practicing like we used to do."

Connor's mouth twitched into a small grin. "I suppose so."

I raised up and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "I am happy with you," I told him. "I just...since I lost the baby...I-I need something."

"I know," Connor said. "And I will do what I can to fill the void you were left with. But I sincerely hope you do not choose this life, Faith. It is not easy."

I nodded. I really doubted that I wanted to be an Assassin. Not after talking to him and expressing how I felt. I know he had never intentionally done anything to give me the feeling of oppression. It had mostly been me doing it myself. I hoped more than anything that the understanding we had reached would last.

It was about a month into training that I came to the revelation that I wasn't dedicated enough to the Order to risk my life for their cause. My main reason for deciding this was Abby. It was just a routine day of lessons with Connor, but something he said when we were taking a break struck me. We were talking about our daughter, about how much she had grown and how stubborn she could be. I was recalling the day she had taken her first steps.

"It was so funny," I told Connor. "She just walked four steps and fell down. Flat on her butt. But she didn't start crying. She got mad. Like it was the floor's fault she lost her balance."

I looked at my husband, laughing at he memory. I noticed he was watching me with a pained expression on his face. I stopped giggling and stared at him.

"I was not home," he said quietly.

It hit me then just how much of Abby's life Connor had missed out on for the Brotherhood. He did far more than put his life on the line when he left, he lost chances. Chances to make memories that could never occur again. He missed out on once in a lifetime opportunities that could never be replaced. It made me very sad for him.

I took Connor's hand and stood up.

"Let's go home," I said.

And we went home. We spent the rest of the day with our daughter. Just enjoying her company. Connor and I still hunted occasionally after that. But we mostly just did nothing when he was home. I knew it wasn't nothing to him. To Connor, it was the only thing worth doing. Being a family and living a simple life.