There wasn't much talking between Haytham and Connor during the rest of the journey. Connor was following his Captain's duties and Haytham just spent his time onboard the Aquila with sitting in room, climbing the crow's nest or just strolled around. They had found Church and after ending him and taking the supplies they made their way back to New York.

Although that was how they acted, the incident never left Connor's mind and he found himself admitting that the reason for his sleepless nights wasn't actually the kiss. But all his thoughts were spinning around the phrase his father had said that night – "to remember old times…"
It was somehow obvious that what Haytham meant was his time back then together with his mother, Ziio. That, he was sure, was a fact, due to what happened right after. The Kiss and so on.
But he couldn't stop thinking that there was more about this particular phrase He had seen it in his father's eyes. It was as if there were thousands of pictures spinning behind Haytham's eyes and only as Connor asked if he was "touched in the head", all those flashing pictures – thoughts – stopped. And they had stopped at one of Ziio.

His mother had never told him much about Haytham. Nothing more that facts like that he was a Templar or that he was British. But she never told him something that included her feelings towards him. Of course he wanted to know more about this. It was just natural. But with his mother gone, the only person he could get that information from was his father. And casually walking up to him and asking wasn't even an opportunity worth thinking about.
These were the thoughts he had while the Aquila was on her way to New York.

After a few more days, New York finally was less than 10 miles ahead of them. That was when the Captain decided to tell his father to prepare himself for the landing.
Haytham wasn't on deck. He rarely had been after that night. Most of the time he was in his quarters and that was where Connor wished to find him. But when the Captain reached the chamber, and after not getting an answer to his knocking, he found it empty as he stepped inside. Hoping that Haytham wasn't again in the rum stock, Connor let out an annoyed sigh. But that also wasn't where his father was. Although he somehow liked the effect the alcohol had on him, in the meaning of forgetting most of his worries for just a while, Haytham thought that it would be a good idea to stay away from it for a while.
No, instead he had found another nice spot on the canon deck. With a light breeze coming through the hatches the air fresh enough and he had a nice view over the ocean. Most important, he was alone most of the time. This was also the place he was at right now, when suddenly he heard a noise. A screak. It took him a while but then he was sure that he heard seagulls and, as he had learned on his journey from London to Boston, that meant that land was nearby. So Haytham decided to head to his quarters and ready himself.

Meanwhile Connor was about to turn and look elsewhere for his father's whereabouts when he suddenly caught a glimpse of something that made him stop. It was a book that reached out from under the pillow which lay on Haytham's bed. He could only see a corner of it but it somehow looked familiar and so he grabbed it.
It was his, or better the Aquila's, journal and he promptly was enraged and wondered if his father was really touched in the head for taking his journal without permission. It wasn't that he would find something personal in it, since Connor had – and always left – his personal writings at the manor in the Davenport Homestead. This one here was just for the nautical happening onboard the Aquila. But it was rather about the principle. With an angry snort he opened the first page although he didn't know why. Probably just to check it. A bad habit since he had a hard time trusting people.
But what he saw made him frown. That was not his handwriting nor was it something he ever had written "6 December 1735".
'Wait a moment…' Connor was confused. Turning the book around, he took a closer look at it. It wasn't his journal. It just looked almost exactly like it and due to his anger he must have ignored the little differences.
Connor knew it was wrong but he saw his chance. His chance to finally getting the answers he yearned for so long.
He was holding his father's journal in his hands and as fast as he could he rushed into his, just a few steps away, quarters, exchanged the two journals, headed back and placed the Aquila's journal in the exact position as he had found the other one. Just in time he was able to straighten up and turn around to face Haytham who now stepped through the door, looking at his son with suspicious eyes. "Son?" he said with his hands behind his back.
"I was on my way to inform you that we will soon reach New York. You should prepare for the landing." Connor said without much emotion and pressed himself past Haytham to left the room. Leaving his father alone behind, Connor made his way on deck. The Aquila needed her Captain and since Connor didn't need to prepare himself to get off the ship, for they just stopped at New York to let Haytham disembark and then directly heading towards Davenport harbor, he stepped beside Master Faulkner and gave the commands as he always did.

The harbor of New York was even nearer when Haytham, with Connor now gone, finally had time to back his belongings. There wasn't much to pack in fact, just a few utensils which he was able to stuff into the jacket pockets of his frock-coat. Amongst them the book, which he fast pulled out from under the pillow and tucked it into his inside pocket.
Shortly after the Aquila lay at one of New York's berths and Haytham disembarked without giving his son a properly goodbye but instead just a short nod.

Connor felt somehow relieved as he watched his father leaving the ship and disappearing between the townsfolk of the city that was rushing along the dock. He gave himself just a brief moment to look after Haytham when he hastily gave the order to cast off. He knew that they would soon arrive at the Homestead where he, at last, had the time and the peace to read in his father's journal.