Heyy Waffle gang, I do hope you are well.

My name is Mark, and today we're checking out some more relationship stories.

And if you do love a Reddit story, why not consider him that, like, subscribe, maybe that

notification bell too.

And let's dive straight into today's first story, which comes from tradition, impressive

too, who says, am I the asshole for

refusing to sell the place I bought with stripper money. For several years, I was a stripper.

I have no shame about what I did and only quit when I got a better job offer. In the time I

worked as a stripper, I intentionally lived as cheaply as possible.

Shitty little studio flat, living off ramen, wearing old clothes, because my co-workers all told me

that they were able to buy their own places on their income, so long as they saved like crazy.

Before I retired, I managed to outright buy myself a three-bedroom flat.

I rented out the other rooms for a while, but I got sick of having roommates,

so now I have them up online for shorter stays, but not to rent.

I met this guy about 18 months ago, and we've been together since.

He knows about my employment history, and he said that he has no

issue with it, although he did ask me to tell his family the white lie I occasionally use on my

CV and stuff, which is that I was a waitress, which I kind of was to be fair. A month ago, we found out

that I'm two months pregnant. He says this is great news and we should

move in together. I assumed he'd be moving into my place because he rents his. Far smaller,

one bedroom flat while I own mine. And I have room for a baby's room while he doesn't.

Also, I really don't want to leave my flat. It's my flat. I love it. I could see myself

...