Andy stood in the aftermath of his violent outburst, his heart pounding with the realization of what he had done. He took a step back, trembling as he looked down at Maria's lifeless body, her face pale and serene. The future they had dreamed of was shattered, replaced by a nightmare of his own making.

His eyes drifted to the nursery, the room they had lovingly prepared for their unborn child. The door was slightly ajar, a sliver of light spilling into the hallway. Andy's heart ached as he walked toward it, each step feeling like a mile.

He pushed the door open and stepped inside. The nursery was a haven of softness and light, the walls painted a gentle pastel. A mobile hung above the crib, its colorful shapes gently spinning in the breeze from the open window. The shelves were lined with stuffed animals and books, each one chosen with care and love.

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Andy felt a wave of sorrow crash over him as he looked around the room. This was supposed to be their child's sanctuary, a place of safety and love. Now it was a monument to everything he had lost, everything he had destroyed.

He sank to his knees in the middle of the room, his heart breaking. He could almost see Maria here, arranging the baby clothes, her face glowing with anticipation and joy. The vision was so vivid that it brought fresh tears to his eyes.