Part 8
Despite trying not to give in to whatever Adrian told her to do, she retrieved the book immediately after putting on her clothes, and began flipping through it. She flopped down on the couch and gazed up at the clock. 4:47pm. She hadn't realized it was that late, and come to think of it, she hadn't realized how hungry she was. The last meal she'd had had been the cereal, and she hadn't even gotten to finish it. But her curiosity was stronger than her hunger, so she flipped a few pages.
At first, it was just information about Alexander's father, Phillip. It set up what was to be Alexander's military prowess, and bequeathed locations and dates. But then it began to describe the man that was Alexander, and it didn't take her long to happen across the information that she was positive Adrian wanted her to find.
Bisexual. Alexander the Great had been bisexual.
Grace hadn't noticed her mouth was hanging open until she nearly drooled. She slammed her mouth shut, and stared up at the clock. She had been reading for nearly an hour. She had no idea she was that interested in this book. She flopped it down on the coffee table, and then shivered when she straightened, realizing that there was a breeze at her back.
She spun her head around, and peered through Adrian's open bedroom door. His floor-length drapes were blowing inward, trying desperately to reach the bed, but failing. She got up and tentatively walked into his room, and realized, with some surprise, that there hadn't been windows behind those drapes, but doors leading out to a magnificent balcony.
Standing on the balcony, his elbows resting on the railing and a glass of red wine in one hand, was Adrian.
"Find your answer?" he said, and it was more of a statement than a question.
"Maybe," she said, pulling her v-neck sweater up higher on her neck as she approached the railing. The sight below was still just as pitiful as it was during the day; just less was visible with the sun's current location on the horizon. "I thought you… wouldn't look at it," she said, leaning against the railing and gesturing to the city.
"I must," he said, and there was unbelievable grief in that statement. "I must accept what… happened."
"Not if it hurts you," she said, studying his face.
"We must persist. Through pain, we must persist," he replied, and she sighed.
They stared at the pitiful ruins of the city for a long time, Adrian occasionally sipping at his wine. The cool breeze blew her brunette hair about, and she actually reveled in the feeling.
"So," she began anew, her voice very gentle. "I got one answer. But I'm still looking for others."
Adrian turned his head and looked her dead in the eyes. "There really is no way around this, is there?"
"Probably not. My mother calls me Grace the Ass. Because I'm stubborn like a donkey, not because…" she trailed off when Adrian smiled at the explanation.
"Well, I will give you what will hopefully suffice as answers, but please know this; I cannot tell you the whole truth. Do you still want to hear it?" he asked, looking back out over the city.
"Yes. Yes, I do," she said, turning to face him and just leaning her left side on the rail.
"What do you want to know first?" he asked, taking a swig of wine but looking like he might spit it back out.
"Who… hurt you? I've seen the advertisements. The Titans themselves would have a hard time beating you up. A fact that was proven to me by…" she paused, thinking back to the image of him in his towel, the portrait of perfection. "Your perfect body. And I say that completely objectively." Maybe not completely objectively.
"It was an old friend. I did something that… aggravated him terribly. He wasn't happy with me," he replied, staring down into his glass as if the Loch Ness monster might jump out of it.
"And he attacked you?" she prodded softly.
"Yes. And I let him. You see, what I did was… morally questionable, but what I deemed as necessary," Adrian said.
"I'm guessing you aren't going to tell me what it was that you did?" she asked.
"You would be correct," he said.
"Okay. What about the glass pyramid in Antarctica? How on Earth did that end up destroyed from halfway up?" she asked, studying his face but finding no reaction.
"Well, it is obvious it was not caused by tremors. So in that, I lied. But that is as much as I am prepared to tell you," he said.
She nodded. "And I have something else… a much deeper question. You may choose not to answer it, because I know it may be difficult," she said, moving closer to him subconsciously.
"I will let you know, then," he said, looking at her questioningly.
"Well… where do I start. I was never that close to you. I was not a personal secretary, and before this I had only met you four times. But I came to the conclusion that you are… different than you were before. You were the epitome of success; a businessman with virtually unlimited power, and a true source of hope for children in your career as Ozymandias. But never, never in my time here working for you, did I ever see you acting the way you are now. Perhaps I was too far removed from the situation to see. Perhaps your personal secretaries saw the things I'm seeing now. But I doubt it. And I want to know why. What is hurting you badly, Adrian?" she finished, searching his eyes.
Adrian stared at her for a moment, then looked away as if she would read the answer in his eyes. She wished she could have.
"I will answer it. But I will answer it in the form of another question. Have you ever done something you thought was right… you knew in your heart was right, but that others did not agree with?" he said, swirling the wine in his glass.
She thought back to a day in college, when she had ratted on a friend about drug using. He had been a close friend… no, more than a friend. At one point, she thought she loved him. But his lifestyle had been killing him, so she turned him in. He hated her for that. He went to prison, and later went to rehabilitation for drug addiction. He had severed all ties with her, and in that she had lost virtually all of her friends. But she saved him nonetheless, and five years later, when he was released from prison and rehab, he had contacted her and thanked her. He said that he would have ended up dead in a ditch somewhere with a needle in his veins had she not done what she did. Now, they still kept in touch, and last she heard, he had a wife and two beautiful kids. She had known at the time that ratting on him was the right thing to do, but he and all their shared friends had disagreed. But in the end, she saved a man who was truly good at heart, just needed help.
"Yes," she said, more conviction in her voice than intended.
"You knew it was right, but you lost everything in the process?" Adrian continued.
"Yes," she replied.
"And you still believe it was the right thing to do?" he asked again.
"Yes," she said.
"And it haunted you… tortured you for the longest time?" he asked.
Grace considered. "Of course."
"That-" he began. "That is what is hurting me."