Breathe by Donna Alward

him, but not today. Today he was restless and soon found himself at the edge of the water at the place where the winery had acquired its name—the curving bend of the river, marked by an ancient willow, the feathery curtains of branches lending an air of calm dignity to the jut of land. He’d stepped on to this property, seen the lone tree standing guard and had just known. He belonged here.
    An old wooden dock traversed out several feet, and he supposed in years past perhaps rowboats or kayaks had called it home. He thought of Matteo and the look on the boy’s face when he’d claimed he hadn’t hurt Jace’s toy car. He wasn’t one for children, but the innocent statement had affected him more than he’d realized at first. What sort of life had he had with Stefano? Had he been afraid of his father? Constantly trying to please him? What would it have been like if he had been theirs, his and Anna’s?
    It was no good to think about it. Jace knew if Matteo had been theirs, life would be very different. Jace would have found himself under Roberto Morelli’s thumb. Perhaps he did owe the old man something after all. His disdain for Jace and his father had allowed Jace to become the man he was today—answerable to himself and no one else. He’d built the life he’d wanted all along.
    Matteo’s eyes seemed to follow him everywhere. It had to be difficult, losing a father and then moving away from the only home he’d known. He should bring the children down here to swim. Or get a little boat to row around, something safe that they could all sit in and enjoy the area around the winery. The current here at the curve where it pooled wasn’t strong.
    He ran a hand through his hair. This was stupid. What was between he and Anna was long over. She’d made her choice. Second-guessing and living in the past, this wondering what if…it wasn’t like him. Anna brought back memories and old feelings. It was that simple. Jace just had to move past it. The answers he’d craved earlier didn’t matter. They would not change what was done. What she’d done.
    He made his way back up the slope to the house. As he drew closer, he saw the door open and Anna come out onto the verandah. He could tell when she saw him because she stilled. It was odd to think of someone being up there waiting for him, and when she offered a weak smile at his approach, he knew they had to move past this afternoon. Somehow.
    â€œDinner’s ready?”
    â€œIt is. I just put the children at the table.”
    He followed her in, disappeared momentarily to wash his hands, and then entered the kitchen.
    The dining nook was transformed. Stubby candles burned at the center of the table, the scent of wax and vanilla mixing with the delicious smells of dinner. Their places were set, and there was not the mess there had been last night. Matteo’s hair was freshly combed and his clothes straightened. He ate from a melamine plate and drank milk from a plastic cup. Aurelia sat in her chair, the tray holding a bowl with creamy potatoes, mashed vegetables, and tiny bits of polpettone . She smiled a toothy smile up at Jace and banged a covered cup against the tray, swinging a plastic spoon with the opposite hand. A torta sat on the marble countertop, and Anna was pouring wine from a bottle into two glasses.
    It was the kind of domestic picture he had never expected to see in his house.
    He did not know what to say to Anna.
    She handed him a glass of wine. “Sit down, Jace. Please.”
    He did. And grew even more uncomfortable as she served him a plate.
    â€œThank you.”
    â€œYou are welcome.”
    The stilted words were fraught with things unsaid. Jace instead looked across the table at Matteo. “Do you like to swim, Matteo?”
    The little boy speared a piece of meatloaf and popped it in his mouth, eyed Jace warily and nodded, his nearly black hair flopping on his