By the time Gabe finally made it home, he couldn’t recall the last time he’d been so bone-tired. He found an open parking spot on the crowded street half a block from the old redbrick home—now divided into apartments—in Tower Grove South where he’d been renting the last several years. He’d been running short of sleep for weeks, no question. Added to that, he was sore, bruised, and exhausted from the struggle in the cold, flooded river.

He trudged up the steps inside the main entry. When he didn’t hear Samson’s toenails hitting the wooden steps behind him, he turned around to find his dog stretched over the bottom three steps. Meeting his gaze, Samson let out a well-timed whine and pumped his tail.

“Too stiff, bud?” Gabe jogged back down and carefully lifted his dog into his arms, craning his head to avoid a mouthful of dog hair. Considering Samson’s size and weight—close to eighty pounds—carrying him up the steps wasn’t a thoughtless feat. A support sling tucked away in the hall closet enabled Samson to climb the stairs on his own with Gabe lifting the sling, but his dog moved at a snail’s pace when they used it, and Gabe wasn’t in the mood to delay collapsing on his bed another minute.

Samson thanked him with a wag of the tail when Gabe set him down on the stoop. Gabe entered the often glitchy code to his apartment, willing it to open without the usual struggle. “You know, bud, we’re gonna have to find a different place if your hips get any worse.” Samson was on Rimadyl and chondroitin supplements, and Gabe could perform a hip replacement on him if necessary, but there was something uncomfortable and daunting about the prospect of doing surgery on his own dog. If it came to it, he’d probably place Samson in Yun’s capable hands instead. But he’d have to move before then. Samson wouldn’t be able to take the steps during recuperation.

Gabe kicked off his shoes and debated how badly he needed a shower tonight instead of in the morning. You went swimming in floodwater. Is there any question?

He stripped out of his clothes in the middle of the living room, headed into the bathroom, and flipped the shower knob to hot. Thoughts of Olivia floated through his head the same as they had most of the drive home. Would it be too early to text her tonight?