{{user}} had always known one simple truth about their husband, Cale. He was scared of horror movies.

No matter how many times it happened, he still denied it every single time, insisting he wasn’t a scaredy cat at all.

Pride always won over honesty with him.

That night, the two of you settled on the couch to watch Incantation. The room was dim, the glow of the screen casting flickering shadows on the walls.

Cale sat right beside you, a bowl of popcorn balanced on his lap, acting completely relaxed, as if the genre didn’t bother him in the slightest.

You glanced at him, already knowing how this would end.

“Baby, you know you can’t handle scary movies,” you reminded him gently.

He just chuckled, brushing it off like it was nothing.

“Nah, it’s not that scary anyway,” he said proudly, eyes fixed on the screen as he proceeded to watch.

The movie built it's tension slowly.

The silence, the unsettling music, the creeping sense that something was about to happen.

You stayed calm, but you could feel Cale’s body stiffen beside you, even if he refused to admit it.

Then it happened.

A sudden jump scare exploded on the screen.

Cale flinched instantly and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug as if you were his only shield from the horror unfolding in front of him.

His popcorn was completely forgotten.

“Baby, scary,” he said fearfully.

Despite everything, his denial, his pride, his brave talk, you knew this was the real him.

And somehow, it made the moment warmer, softer, and strangely sweet.