Love Confession Scene

Being the closet romantic I am, I often amuse myself by fabricating confession-of-love scenes in my mind. You know what these are--those scenes in a movie, book, etc. where one character confesses their love to another character. Well, this time I was inspired by looking at a photo and it suddenly sparked this dialogue in my head. "That is awesome," I think to myself and so I elaborated on it. I drew up a back story that led to this confession scene and this is how it goes:

A boy and a girl have been childhood friends all their life and the girl is madly in love with this friend, but never says anything. When they grow up, the boy gets engaged to someone else, but is drafted to go to war. He becomes injured in the war and comes back disabled and disfigured. His fiancee, however, is disgusted with his disfigurement and she leaves him.

He is devastated by this. Sadly, his parents have also died and they have bequeathed him their giant manor house. He shuts himself up in it with only one caretaker to look after him and the house. Unbeknownst to him (but beknownst to us--Spaceballs reference), the caretaker is actually the childhood friend. He doesn't recognize her because he spends all his time brooding about his scars and the love who left him. The old friend still loves him but does not say anything because she sees how much he mourns for his former fiancee. Instead, she does her best to take care of him and the house. Whenever she feels like she wants to be with him, she goes up to her room in the attic and looks through old photographs instead.

The two don't talk often but once, he does ask her if she has ever lost anyone she loved. She replies yes and he assumes that her love must have died. He does not know that she lost him to someone else.

Gradually, this man grows to love his caretaker but feels as if she wouldn't accept him because of his disfigurement. It isn't until later that he realizes who she is--his old friend. This happens when he calls for her but finding her not responding, he goes up to her room and sees her smiling yet crying over a photo album. He sees the photo and recognizes it as himself years ago. That is when her true identity dawns on him. Standing behind her, he asks her if the man in the photo is the one she loved and lost. Startled, she jumps up and shuts the photo album.

"Yes," she replies, getting up to put it away. Long conversation ensues.
"Was he your husband?" the man asks.
"No, he was...an old friend."
"Were you two close?"
"Very."
"And you never told him you loved him?"
"Oh, I love him still, but no, I never told him I loved him."
"Why not? He might have returned your feelings."
"He never would have loved me."
"What makes you so sure?'
"He loved someone else. Loves her still, I believe."
"Is he married to this other love? Are they together?"
"No, she...she left him."
"Ah, then his feelings might have changed."
"But he still mourns for her everyday."
"And how do you know this?"
"I...I still see him sometimes and the look in his eyes, the look of hurt and abandonment...it's still there."
"And you think there is no possiblity he could move past this woman? That he could love someone else?"
"No, sire. I don't."
"And if he had did not love this woman anymore, do you think that there could be a possibility he could love you?"
"No, sire."
"And why not?"
"Oh, please, sire. Let's not speak of this. I do not pour acid onto your pains. Please do me the same courtesy."
"Very well, but do answer me that last question and I will never speak of it again. Why do you think he could not love you?"
"Oh we were friends, yes, but...he doesn't remember me. He hardly thinks of me now. Besides, I don't think he could have loved me. I'm too...homely. Too poor."
"What if he was homely? What if he was poor? What if he was hideous beyond all imagination? Could you still love HIM?"
"Why yes, sire. Love sees beyond the surface."
"And yet you believe he could not love you."
"We are too different people. I don't think he would have taken me for a wife. Besides, I have a sixth sense about things like this and I have never been wrong."
"Never?"
"Never."

And here he steps forth and takes her shoulders.

"Well, there is a first time for everything," he says and that's when she knows that he has figured out her identity.

[Romantic scene deleted]

After I wrote this, I realized that the scenario bears a heavy resemblance to Beauty and the Beast and Jane Eyre. Both excellent stories.