Leaving Hollywood for her starry-eyed megastar, she finds that love is all you need

Barbara Bach, famously known for her role as Bond girl Triple X, wasn’t waiting for James Bond to come to her rescue; instead, she was on a quest for her own prince charming—rock legend Ringo Starr, also known as Sir Richard Starkey.

Now at the age of 77, Bach reached the zenith of her career when she starred in the 1977 film The Spy Who Loved Me, where she portrayed Anya Amasova, a complex character who was both the love interest and a rival to the charming yet womanizing 007, played by Roger Moore.

In a candid 1983 interview with People, Bach didn’t hold back her opinion about her character’s relationship with Bond, referring to him as “a chauvinist pig who uses girls to shield him against bullets”. Moore himself agreed, stating in a 1973 People interview: “Bond, like myself, is a male chauvinist pig. All my life I’ve been trying to get women out of brassieres and pants”.

Before landing her iconic role in the Bond franchise, Bach had appeared in several Italian films, including Black Belly of the Tarantula, where she shared the screen with fellow Bond actresses Claudine Auger and Barbara Bouchet.

Bach’s portrayal of the KGB agent Anya Amasova not only solidified her status as a beloved Bond girl but also opened doors to numerous opportunities in her acting career. Following her Bond debut, she starred in Mad Magazine Presents Up the Academy (1980) and Caveman (1981), where she worked alongside Ringo Starr, who played a Neanderthal vying for her affections. Interestingly, the movie’s script contrasted sharply with their actual relationship, as they only became romantically involved towards the end of filming.

In a revealing Playboy feature from 1981, Bach noted: “A lot of garbage has been written about us, none of it interesting. The truth is, we weren’t together until the very end of Caveman. Working, we got along fine, but we each had other people, our respective friends. Then, all of a sudden, within a week—the last week of shooting—it just happened. We changed from friendly love to being in love”.

In a 2021 interview with the Irish Examiner, Starr reminisced about their first encounter at Los Angeles International Airport in 1980. “I love the woman. I loved her from when I first saw her at LAX”, he shared. “I’m blessed she’s in my life, that’s all I can ever say.”

Starr, renowned as the drummer for the legendary band The Beatles, was once part of a performance at New York’s Shea Stadium in 1965, where Bach was present. However, she revealed that she wasn’t an ardent Beatles fan, attending the concert with her sister Marjorie, a passionate follower of the band. “I liked [Bob] Dylan, Ray Charles, and the Rolling Stones”, Bach remarked in a People interview from 1981.

Bach’s sister eventually married Joe Walsh, the Eagles guitarist, who later performed with Starr in the All-Starr Band. Just months after John Lennon’s tragic death, Bach and Starr tied the knot on April 27, 1981, with notable guests including Paul McCartney and George Harrison.

Their journey together hasn’t been without challenges. Just before their wedding, the couple survived a near-fatal car accident, which prompted them to vow to stay together. Starr remarked: “We decided we wouldn’t spend any time apart. So far the longest break was five days, and that was too long. I want to live every minute with Barbara”.

The couple also took a significant step together in 1988 by entering rehab, emerging sober since then. Celebrating their 40th wedding anniversary in 2021, Starr shared a nostalgic wedding photo with the caption:, “It was 40 years ago today The love of my life said yes yes yes”.

Starr and Bach’s love extends beyond their personal lives; they also have a blended family, with Starr having three children from his late wife Maureen Cox and Bach two from her former marriage to Augusto Gregorini. Together, they run the Lotus Foundation, which supports various causes, including animal welfare, substance abuse, homelessness, and cancer research. Starr donates all proceeds from his art sales to the foundation.

There’s no denying the deep affection shared between Barbara Bach and Ringo Starr, a bond that remains as strong as ever. As Bach expressed: “I love the man, and that’s it”. Starr echoed her sentiments, saying: “There’s no escape… I think I love Barbara as much (today) as I did (when we met), and I’m beyond blessed that she loves me and we’re still together”. Their inspiring love story continues to resonate, and fans eagerly anticipate what they will accomplish together in their charitable endeavors and personal lives.

My Husband Kept a Christmas Gift from His First Love Unopened for 30 Years—Last Christmas, I Couldn’t Take It Anymore and Opened It

I ignored the little box under our Christmas tree for years. My husband said it was just a memory from his first love, but memories don’t haunt you like that. Last Christmas, something inside me snapped. I opened the gift and found a secret that changed everything.

I met Tyler when I was 32 and he was 35. It sounds cliché, but it felt like fate. Our connection was fast and electric, like when you step outside just as the first snowfall starts. Everything was magic, glittering, and impossibly perfect.

A couple walking in the snow | Source: Midjourney

A couple walking in the snow | Source: Midjourney

He made me laugh with his dry humor, and I admired his quiet confidence. He was never brash and never postured. Tyler was just steady and certain, a safe harbor in a storm.

At least, that’s what I thought. I later realized his calm demeanor wasn’t confidence; it was cowardice.

Our first Christmas together was everything I’d dreamed of. Candles flickered, soft music played, and snow dusted the windows. We took turns unwrapping gifts, leaving ribbons and bows scattered across the floor. Then I saw it.

A woman sitting in a living room on Christmas | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in a living room on Christmas | Source: Midjourney

One gift remained under the Christmas tree: a small, neatly wrapped box with a slightly flattened bow.

“Oh?” I said, tilting my head toward it. “Is that also for me?”

Tyler glanced up from the sweater I’d just given him and shook his head. “Nah, that’s… that’s something from my first love. She gave it to me before we broke up.” He shrugged like it was nothing. “Each year, I place it under the tree, though I’ve never opened it.”

A man sitting on a sofa | Source: Midjourney

A man sitting on a sofa | Source: Midjourney

I blinked. “What?”

He didn’t even look up. Just folded the sweater over his lap. “It’s not a big deal. It’s just a memory of someone who once meant a lot to me.”

I felt a prickle at the back of my neck. “Why didn’t you open it?”

“We broke up soon afterward, and I didn’t feel like opening it,” he said, and that was that.

The moment passed, or at least he thought it did.

A happy man sitting in a living room on Christmas | Source: Midjourney

A happy man sitting in a living room on Christmas | Source: Midjourney

But I remember sitting there, my smile feeling too tight on my face. A little red flag waved somewhere in the distance of my mind, but I told myself it was fine. People hold on to weird things. Old love letters. Ticket stubs. Nobody’s perfect, right?

The years rolled on, and we built a life together. Tyler and I got married and bought a little starter home. We had two kids together who filled the rooms with shrieks of joy and toddler tears.

We were happy. Or busy, which sometimes feels the same. Christmases came and went like clockwork.

A Christmas tree in a living room | Source: Pexels

A Christmas tree in a living room | Source: Pexels

I’d put up the tree while Tyler wrangled the lights. The kids would argue over which ornaments went where, and every year, without fail, that little box appeared under the tree.

I asked him about it again around year seven of our marriage.

“Why do you still have that old gift?” I’d said, dusting pine needles off the floor. “You’ve had it longer than you’ve had me.”

He looked up from untangling the lights, brow furrowed like I’d just asked him to solve world peace.

A man untangling Christmas lights in his living room | Source: Midjourney

A man untangling Christmas lights in his living room | Source: Midjourney

“It’s just a box, Nicole. It’s not hurting anyone. Leave it be.”

I could’ve argued. I wanted to, but I didn’t. Back then, I still believed that peace was more important than answers. I still believed in us.

Time slipped through our fingers. Christmases came and went. The kids grew up and left for college. They called less and less and skipped spending holidays with the folks more often.

The house was quieter than I expected. It’s funny how you never realize how much noise you’ll miss.

A mature woman decorating a Christmas tree alone | Source: Midjourney

A mature woman decorating a Christmas tree alone | Source: Midjourney

But that box? It never missed a year.

Every December, I’d watch it appear like a ghost. Tyler would place it in a spot where it was out of the way, but still clearly visible. It still had the same stupid paper, as smooth as the day his first love wrapped it.

I didn’t say anything anymore. I’d just see it, feel my chest tighten, and keep moving. But something had shifted.

A mature woman standing near a Christmas tree | Source: Midjourney

A mature woman standing near a Christmas tree | Source: Midjourney

The box wasn’t just a box anymore. It was everything we never said to each other. It was his silence on the nights I lay awake, wondering if he’d ever loved me as much as her.

One night, after putting away dinner leftovers, I stood in the kitchen, hands on my hips, staring at the ceiling like it owed me an answer.

Tyler still hadn’t washed the dishes like he’d said he would, and hadn’t taken the trash out either. Instead, he was upstairs, tapping away on his laptop while I held everything together, like always.

A solemn-looking woman standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A solemn-looking woman standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

I’d committed years of my life to this man and our family, and I was tired of always having to fight with him and remind him about chores. I looked around our kitchen and my heart ached for something I couldn’t name.

I sighed, dried my hands on a dishrag, and made my way to the living room.

The Christmas tree lights twinkled softly, casting everything in a warm, golden glow. It should’ve been peaceful. But then I saw that darn box.

Gifts under a Christmas tree | Source: Pexels

Gifts under a Christmas tree | Source: Pexels

It was sitting there, smug, untouched. Still unopened after all these years.

Something deep and sharp unfurled in my chest. I could’ve walked away. I should’ve, but I’d walked away too many times already.

I grabbed it off the floor, and before I could think, I tore it open. Paper shredded in my hands and that stupid, flattened bow fell to the floor. My breath came short and fast as I tore open the thin cardboard and revealed the gift from Tyler’s first love.

A woman opening a Christmas gift | Source: Pexels

A woman opening a Christmas gift | Source: Pexels

Inside was a letter, neatly folded, aged to a soft yellow. I froze.

This was the thing he’d guarded for thirty years. My heart drummed in my ears as I unfolded the page, fingers trembling.

My stomach dropped as I read the first sentence. I stumbled backward and sat down hard on the sofa as my knees went weak.

A woman sitting on a sofa while reading a letter | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting on a sofa while reading a letter | Source: Midjourney

“Tyler, I’m pregnant. I know this is a shock, but I didn’t know where else to turn. My parents found out and they’re forcing me to stay away from you, but if you meet me at the bus station on the 22nd, we can run away together. I’ll be wearing a green coat.

Please, meet me there, Tyler. I’m so sorry I lied that day I broke up with you. My father was watching from the car. I never stopped loving you.”

I pressed my fist to my mouth to keep from making a sound.

A shocked woman reading a letter | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman reading a letter | Source: Midjourney

She’d been there. She’d waited for him. And he never showed. But worse than that — he’d never even opened the letter. He had no idea…

I heard Tyler’s footsteps coming down the stairs. I didn’t even try to hide what I’d done.

When he saw me holding the letter, his face went pale.

“What did you do?!” His voice was sharp, slicing through the air like glass. “That was my most precious memory!”

I rose and turned to him slowly, feeling something inside me crack wide open.

A shocked man standing in a living room decorated for Christmas | Source: Midjourney

A shocked man standing in a living room decorated for Christmas | Source: Midjourney

“Memory?” I held up the letter like a battle flag. “You mean this? This letter you never even opened? You’re telling me you clung to this ‘memory’ for thirty years and didn’t even have the courage to see what it was?”

He blinked, stepping back like I’d hit him.

“I didn’t…” He stopped and swiped a hand down his face. “I was scared, okay?”

“Coward,” I hissed, thrusting the letter at him like it was a sword.

A furious woman holding a letter | Source: Midjourney

A furious woman holding a letter | Source: Midjourney

His eyes widened. We stood there like that for what felt like forever, but then he took the page in his hands, and read the letter.

My eyes didn’t even sting with tears as I watched him gasp with shock and sit down on the arm of the sofa. I was too tired for that now.

Emotions flickered across his face, and at one point, he let out a low moan. He seemed to reread her words at least three times before he dropped his head into his hands.

A man sitting with his head in his hands | Source: Midjourney

A man sitting with his head in his hands | Source: Midjourney

“She… she was waiting, and I didn’t show up.” His shoulders shook and his voice was thick with emotion.

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. He cried like a man mourning his own grave. But I didn’t feel sorry for him. I’d been waiting too.

“Tyler,” I said, my voice calm like a still lake after a storm. “I’m tired. Tired of being second to a ghost.” I felt my heart settle into something steady. “We’re done.”

He didn’t chase me as I left the room.

An angry woman glancing over her shoulder | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman glancing over her shoulder | Source: Midjourney

The divorce was quiet. Neither of us had the energy to make it messy. We split the house, the cars, and the rest of our lives.

He tracked her down. I found out from our youngest. She was happily married and their son wasn’t interested in meeting Tyler or his half-siblings. He’d missed his chance. Twice.

And me? I got my own place. On Christmas Eve, I sat by the window, watching the soft glow of lights from the neighboring apartments.

A content woman sitting near a window | Source: Midjourney

A content woman sitting near a window | Source: Midjourney

There was no tree this year, no boxes, and no ghosts. Just peace.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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