Time Traveler’s Wife mixes science fiction and romance. It tells story of Henry, a guy with a strange genetic disorder that makes him jump through time. His wife Clare learns to handle their unusual relationship. It’s not easy. Love, fate and consequences are big themes. So, get ready for a wild ride!

Meet the characters from The Time Traveler’s Wife

Clare Abshire

Oh man, Clare is the kind of quietly fierce heroine you want in your life — patient, stubborn, full of ritual (she organizes life like it’s a poem, honestly). She’s tender and luminous and will forgive things you didn’t even know you needed forgiveness for, but also she can snap like a rubber band if pushed — don’t be fooled by the lace and vintage dresses. She’s endlessly fascinated by time and memory, yet somehow domestic in the most particular, bookish way (collects sea glass but also says beaches are overrated — I know, I know). She loves with a clarity that’s almost annoying in its purity, and she keeps secrets like they’re pressed flowers in a book.

Henry DeTamble

Henry is a walking paradox — charming, damaged, funny, heroic, and also a walking disaster when it comes to logistics (we’re talking missed birthdays, misplaced everything, and yet he remembers the scent of someone’s hair from 1973). He time-travels, obviously, but he’s not a showy hero; he’s awkward, vulnerable, and fiercely protective in a way that makes you want to put a blanket on him. He has this weird, endearing mix of kid-like wonder and bone-deep melancholy, plus a scar or two and a habit of telling the same story like it’s new every time. Also he loves cigarette machines (or maybe that’s just one time?) and somehow always shows up when you least expect him, so annoying, so perfect.

Gomez

Gomez is that warm, slightly nosy neighbor/family friend who remembers birthdays and your mother’s maiden name and probably burns garlic at parties but nobody complains because he’s kind. He’s practical, a little gruff, likes a good story and will retell it loud and with embellishments (100% reliable on suspense, 0% reliable on facts). He’s the kind of person who fixes things with chewing gum and optimism, and somehow supplies emotional duct tape too. Also, rumor has it he has a ridiculous hat collection — or was that someone else? — either way, he’s comforting.

Charisse

Charisse feels like the glam, slightly sharp-edged companion who’s never fully predictable; glamorous one minute, startlingly sincere the next (and yes, she drinks espresso at 2 a.m. and will judge your shoes). She’s savvy and polished but not cold — more like finely tuned, which sometimes reads as intimidating. She’ll deliver a cutting quip, then bring you soup; she’s complicated like that, a little jealous maybe, but fiercely loyal when it counts. Oh and she has a perfect posture that makes you feel both seen and tiny, which is unfair but true.

Philip Abshire

Philip gives off very tied-up-in-his-head energy — quiet, intellectual, maybe a little prickly, like someone who covers old wounds with sarcasm and books. He’s protective of family in the way a lighthouse is protective — steady, a little stubborn, occasionally creaky around the edges. He’ll say something blunt and then blush like an idiot when you care, and he absolutely hoards postcards or old newspapers for reasons he won’t explain. He’s reliable in a low-key, almost grudging way, which is sort of adorable.

Lucille Abshire

Lucille is the heart-and-fret center of the Abshire household, warm and anxious in equal measures — she keeps recipes in her head and prayers in her sleeves and worries like it’s a full-time job. She fusses and organizes, cries and laughs, and has this fierce devotion that makes her both terribly sentimental and unexpectedly tough. She will remember everyone’s favorite pie and also hold a scolding stare that could wither you, but it’s always rooted in love. Also, fun fact? She might have a secret stash of terrible romance novels (not confirmed, but likely).

Alicia Abshire

Alicia reads like the sibling who chose a different soundtrack for life — wry, a little rebellious, and laugh-out-loud sarcastic when she’s nervous. She’s creative, sharp, kind in a blunt way, and the kind of person who will tell you the brutal truth but bring you coffee after. She sometimes vanishes for a bit (metaphorically? literally? both?) and shows up with a cigarette and a story, or a sketchbook full of faces. Also, she has this laugh that sounds like a bell and then she covers her mouth like she’s embarrassed — cute and maddening.

Annette DeTamble

Annette is quietly pragmatic, the steadying presence who tries to make sense of chaos with lists, schedules, and a very exact calendar (nerd cred, yes). She’s reserved and efficient but not without a private tenderness — she keeps small rituals that mean almost everything, even if she won’t admit it. Underneath the composed surface there’s a bored or bitter streak sometimes, but also surprising warmth, especially when she lets her guard down. And she probably owns more scarves than anyone else in the story — stylistic guess, but go with it.

Richard DeTamble

Richard is the gruff, practical dad type with hands that have done a hundred different jobs and a voice that settles arguments just by being there. He’s blunt, occasionally baffled by feelings, but deeply loyal in a way that is messy and blunt and very human. He loves machines or trucks or both, likes to fix things, and collects tools like trophies. Secretly sentimental? Maybe. He has a soft spot for old family photos and denies it fiercely.

Nell

Nell is utterly luminous and heartbreaking — wise beyond her years and also fiercely childlike, like someone who’s seen too much but still insists on making paper cranes. She’s brave and fragile at once, with a wry sense of humor that can cut through a room, and oh god does she have a way with words that makes you want to cry. She collects tiny objects (buttons, notes, small rocks) and treats them like precious relics, and she carries the weight of family stories with a curved back and a straight spine. Confusing small contradictions? Absolutely: intense yet playful, stubborn but surrendering in the most devastating way.