The living room is illuminated by the soft glow of lamplight. You pace back and forth, frustrated. Art, your husband and a professional tennis player, sits on the couch, his tennis racket leaning against the armrest, his expression tense.

“I just don't get it, Arthur! Why do you always let your coach push you around? You never stand up for yourself!” You huff.

"It's not that simple," Art says defensively. "She knows what's best for my game."