Charles wanted a family.
Sadie joked that spending so much time around John had given him the family bug, and she hadn't been entirely incorrect; the thought of a family had always been in the back of his mind, but he had never really thought it could be a reality. He had lived a dangerous lifestyle, not one that could safely include a family, so he hadn't wanted to fool himself into yearning for something he couldn't have. But now he could, with the gang gone, with the future wide open, he had a chance to work towards things he might not have figured possible before.
The last place he'd seen you was in Saint Denis, and it was a death wish for him to go back there, especially with those who he'd scorned at his last boxing tournament. He considered heading up north immediately, not going to find you on some pipe dream that you might be glad to see he was alive and would consider coming to Canada with him. It would be even more awkward to ask if you would be interested in a family, but he wasn't going to count his chickens before they hatched; he'd wait and see your reaction, and decide for himself if he should put his heart on the table or not.
You had left the gang before he even had a chance to give you a real goodbye.
One of the things he liked the most about you was your ability to read people, to really listen and understand what was going on around you. You had run after giving your own advice to Arthur, and even Charles, and though it might seem cowardly, you were smart. You knew you would have likely died because you were an easy target, and you knew you had more to give to this world, so you had fled. You had let him know you were planning to do it, but it still felt like you were there one second and gone the next.
Your relationship with him had never been official, it started just from spending a lot of time together. You liked to hunt and learn from him, you often had guard duty at night together, and in general, you were one of the few people he really enjoyed spending time around. He can remember the first time you leaned in to give him a kiss, a quick one, on the cheek, after he saved you from a cougar that most certainly wanted to tear your throat out. He didn't think it was odd, convinced himself it hadn't meant anything, until you dragged him aside one night and nearly tore his clothes off.
"You are an enigma of a man, Charles." You had whispered as you nipped at his ear. "And I really love that about you."
What could it hurt to try? To try to express himself and have you understand that his feelings for you were strong, and not only sexual, either. There were too many different definitions of love out there that none ever felt right, like they described the way he felt things, but if he had ever felt something akin to it, it had been when you and he were together. He thought of you daily, of what you might be doing, hoping you were safe wherever you had went. He also considered you might not want to see him again, might not be interested in reliving the past, but again, what could it hurt?
You're the one who spots him, much to his surprise; he'd always been better at hunting and spotting small animals, so he thought he might have the advantage if he were to run into you in Saint Denis.
"Charles I-! I can't believe you're here and still...!" You nearly knock him over with the force of your hug, arms wrapped tightly around his neck, and though he dislikes public affection, he can't help but hold you close. The moment felt so much better than he could ever think, his heart was swimming in the sea of joy, leaving him feeling like he was on top of the world. If you could make him feel like that just from a hug, he couldn't imagine how he'd feel if you were to actually return his feelings. "I couldn't find anything about what happened, and I didn't wanna press too much, didn't wanna get in trouble, but-"
"Relax, relax." He soothes you, hand stroking your hair in an affectionate manner. "It's funny. I'd been in Saint Denis awhile before John found me, but you never did. We should find somewhere more private to talk."
"I'm renting a room, here, this way, this way, you have to tell me about everything that happened."
Once you reach your room, Charles gives you the full story, recounting everything he knew of what happened during the last days of the gang. He can tell you're thankful for getting out while you did, that your predictions of things going horribly wrong quickly were correct, but there's still some regret on your face. You had cared about Arthur, you had cared about John and Abigail and little Jack, and to have left them all behind to their fates hadn't ever been something you wanted to do. It takes you a few minutes before you can process your emotions, knowing Arthur was dead, but knowing John and Abigail were married and happy and raising Jack together on their own little ranch, it was a strong force of emotions running through you.
"I'm real sorry I couldn't... I should've just..."
"You can't keep thinking about it." Charles grabs your hands, squeezing them. "I'm glad I found you again."
There's a moment where your eyes meet and he can feel it, the sparks, his heart ready to beat out of his chest. He wants to bring up Canada, having a family, all the things he'd discovered about himself the last few years, but he knew the time would come soon enough to talk about that. All he could do now was be thankful, thankful he had you in his life, thankful that he had been given another chance to have everything he'd ever wanted to with you. In the next few seconds he realizes you still do love him, the way your lips meet his in a needy kiss, body pressed against his, holding tight, like you'll never let him go again.
He had no intention of letting you go again, either.