Within weeks, I was visiting Ben’s apartment building four or five times a week to hang out with Ben. Of course, I was worried I would bump into Guy—or worse, a member of his family—but a small part of me still wanted to. And, sure enough, one day I got my wish. It was a sunny warm Sunday, and I was very hung over. I was wearing very short denim shorts. At the very least, hopefully, I was looking good after my breakup weight loss. Ben was wearing a pair of beige chinos, a very sexy white shirt complete with Burberry patterned cuffs and collar, and some Louis Vuitton sunglasses which had a gold frame that looked a little bit too mobster for my liking. We were just about to leave his apartment when his phone rang; a friend wanted to drop something off for him, so he said we would wait outside the building and collect it from him.
Outside, in the sun, we waited on the pavement, chatting and flirting away. When I heard a motorbike, I stupidly thought, Wouldn’t it be funny if it is Guy? Of course, it was him. I totally froze and as I felt like I was about to vomit, I heard Ben screaming, ‘Is that him? Is that him?’
He had once said to me, ‘If he makes you cry one more time, I will kill him.’ I knew the situation could not end well. At that exact moment, Ben’s friend turned up; he was wearing a black suit (he was innocently on his way to a wedding), was absolutely huge—and when I say huge, I mean huge—and, to be completely honest, he looked like a hitman. Ben was also a big man and still looked like a cross between a gangster and a terrorist, even after he had his ponytail cut off!
I thought quickly and lied to save any trouble. After all, as long as Guy recognised me standing there, looking good, with a sexy stranger, I had achieved what I wanted. ‘No, I don’t think so,’ I tried to say coolly. But, to be perfectly honest, I thought I had made it very obvious it was him, from the terrified look I no doubt had on my face. Plus, my idiot of an ex-boyfriend made it very evident it was him by stopping his bike, lifting up his visor and going very green in the face. No doubt franticly trying to escape the situation, he pulled down his visor, revved his bike and drove straight into a closed garage door (I had to laugh!). He then hurriedly corrected himself, turned around and hastily drove straight back up the driveway with a very terrified look on his face. When I received a phone call later that night from Constable Fraser, it became apparent he had gone straight to the police station!
Now, don’t get me wrong. I would have been scared if I had been in that situation. Just imagine it from Guy’s point of view: You drive home after a leisurely ride on your motorbike to find your ex-girlfriend standing outside your apartment block with two hit men. Of course, it wasn’t like that at all, but it still makes me smile that he obviously thought it was.
Fate was on my side again. I don’t think I have ever laughed so much as I did when my phone rang that night and Constable Fraser from Bondi Police station, accused me of hiring two ‘gangsters’ to kill Guy.
‘Every story has an end. But in life every end is a new beginning.’ — Unknown.