I feel like a teenager again, lying in bed and waiting for my parents to go to sleep so I can sneak into the office and use the computer past my bedtime. The master bedroom door closes around eleven, and I wait until I can hear my dad's snoring through the walls before I move to sneak down to the office. My mom uses earplugs at night so she won't hear me, and my dad sleeps like the dead.
The night had been nice—we had pizza and wings and watched playoff baseball in the living room like we always used to. My mom was quiet, reclining in her chair with her Sudoku, while my dad and I watched the game and actually had a comfortable, easy conversation. It felt normal in a way that made me cry a bit in the shower.
Today was just an emotionally draining day between confession and my therapy session. Dr. Forseti noted that I seemed more determined today, willing to share and actively listening, and I took that as a good thing.
But my curiosity was still bothering me, and I needed to know what my parents were looking at earlier. I know it's about Sophieand I just... I need to know anything I can about her. I won't be able to sleep if I don't find out.
It's as easy as it was when I was sixteen to get into my mom's laptop—her password is still our childhood dog's name, Lucky, and my birthday.
It opens up to an article,Bailey Banks On It,and the picture at the top makes my heart drop into my stomach.
It's Sophie.
My Sophie.
The photograph makes my chest cave in. She's standing in front of a bright mural splashed with pink ribbons and wildflowers, mid-laugh, one hand pushing her hair out of her face. She looks so beautiful dressed in that red sweater that I love, her lips painted that kissable red, and she looks...
She looks happy.
She looks so goddamn happy.
I scroll down and read the article, and my stomach twists with every line.
???
Losing Everything, Finding It All: How Breast Cancer, Betrayal, and a Bookstore Led Me to the Life of My Dreams
Bailey Banks On It – Breast Cancer Awareness Month Edition featuring Sophie Bracken.
By Bailey Banks
It starts, as most life-changing stories do, with an ordinary day.
Sophie Bracken was getting dressed when she found it—an unfamiliar lump in her breast.
"I told myself it was probably just hormonal," she tells me now, sitting curled up on her couch with a mug of coffeesteaming in her hands. She's dressed in what she fondly calls herchemo uniform:an oversized University of North Carolina sweatshirt, soft black leggings, and fuzzy socks patterned with tiny kittens.
"Chemo makes you feel cold to your bones," she explains with a smile. "At this point, I'm all about maximum comfort and warmth."
On her head is the gorgeous wig fromCrown Craft, owned by Sasha Graham (featured in our last article, link down below). The wig gives her a lot of confidence, letting her look like herself again—a small way for her to reclaim her identity, as many women experience a loss of self-image when they experience hair loss from the treatment.
"When you find something in your body that just feels off, your mind immediately starts rationalizing. It's just a cyst, it's a growth, it's a mole, it's your imagination. It's nothing to worry about. Your mind is telling you this, while your body feels like it's gone into fight-or-flight mode. Something inside me just knew that it was serious."
Within weeks, Sophie had diagnostic imaging, a biopsy, and an earth-shattering diagnosis—Breast Cancer.
About 85% of women diagnosed with breast cancer have no family history of the disease—meaning it can happen to anyone.
"There were really no warning signs for me. I didn't have a family history of cancer, no 'high-risk' profile. I was a normal twenty-nine-year-old woman in the middle of planning my wedding."
A wedding that would ultimately never happen.
"I was in the middle of trying to process that I had a sickness that could be deadly. That I might need chemotherapy and surgery. That I might lose my hair, my breasts, my future," Sophie says, swallowing hard. "And the one thing I could hold onto in this chaotic and unpredictable time was my fiancé. I hadassured myself that he would be there, just as he was for all of the appointments, holding my hand and telling me it would be okay."
Sophie looks me right in the eye and shrugs, "I didn't know at the time that he had started having sex with his coworker."
Her entire world, already shaky from the cancer and the uncertain future, collapsed in an instant.
"It felt," she says, taking a long pause to gather her thoughts, "like being kicked when I was already bleeding out."
