A Promise
The more Henry thinks about, the more he realizes he doesn't love Natalie, or the way she's been acting recently. She doesn't listen to him, she never wants to hear him talk, she goes out to clubs and dances with other guys, the list goes on and on.
But he stays with her. He always stays with her, because he made a promise. As long as Natalie wants him, he'll stay. He reminds himself of this whenever he considers breaking up with her.
So when Natalie asks him why he stays with her, he answers with a "Because I made a promise" that sounds so rehearsed he feels like a robot.
"You always talk about this promise of yours," Natalie whines. "You never say it's because you love me." She doesn't say anything more, but Henry knows how she wants him to respond.
"I…" Henry begins, trying to force the untrue words out. Then he thinks: maybe the truth would be better. But maybe not. He keeps his mouth shut.
"Do you, Henry?" Natalie prompts. "Do you love me?"
"I…" he shakes his head sadly. "No, I'm sorry, Natalie. I don't, not anymore."
"Then leave."
"What?"
"Leave. I don't want you sticking around if you don't love me." She points at the door in case the message isn't clear enough.
Henry frowns. He stayed with her all this time and now she wants him to leave? "Are you—"
"Yes, I'm sure. Leave."
"Natalie, I'm—"
"Yes, I know you're sorry. Get out already."
Then it hits Henry: he should be pouncing on this chance to go, find someone he does love and who will love him back. He sighs. "Goodbye, Natalie."
Walking out of the room is one of the hardest things he's ever done, but at the same time, he feels surprisingly lighter without the weight of the promise on his shoulders.