Jason Momoa’s new relationship is making waves in the news after he posted pictures of his girlfriend, who is also well-known.
Fans have been talking about how his new girlfriend looks similar to his ex-wife and even his daughter. Some people think it’s odd that his girlfriend looks like his teenage daughter.
Jason Momoa has confirmed that he’s dating again. With his new girlfriend’s photos spreading online, people are comparing her to his family members. Some say his ex is more beautiful, while others find it uncomfortable that his new girlfriend resembles his child.
Jason Momoa is famous for his role in the 2018 film “Aquaman,” where he starred with Amber Heard. They both returned for the sequel in 2023.
He has also acted with Vin Diesel, Tyrese Gibson, Michelle Rodriguez, and Gal Gadot in the popular movie “Fast X.”
Besides his successful acting career, Jason Momoa’s love life has also attracted a lot of public interest. He has been romantically linked to several well-known women over the years.
Jason Momoa was married to Lisa Bonet, who is famous for her role on “The Cosby Show.” They became a well-known couple. They started dating in 2005 after friends introduced them to each other.
At the time, Lisa Bonet was 12 years older than Jason Momoa and was a single mom raising her teenage daughter, Zoë Kravitz, from her previous marriage to Lenny Kravitz.
Momoa built a close bond with both Zoë and Lenny. He affectionately calls Zoë “Zozo bear,” and she calls him “Papa bear.” Momoa also has a lot of respect for Lenny Kravitz, and the feeling is mutual.
Jason Momoa and Lisa Bonet got married in October 2017. They have two children together: a daughter named Lola and a son named Nakoa-Wolf. Both kids are now teenagers.
In a 2018 interview, Jason Momoa talked about how much he enjoyed his marriage with Lisa Bonet. He said she was very funny and quirky, which made him laugh a lot. He also praised her for being a great mom and said they were a “perfect fit.”
However, after being together for 16 years and married for four of those years, Momoa and Bonet announced they were separating in January 2022. They explained that they were going through big changes and that their love was evolving.
They said in a joint statement, “We have all felt the squeeze and changes of these transformational times… A revolution is unfolding and our family is no exception… feeling and growing from the seismic shifts occurring.”
The couple’s breakup surprised many fans, and later, it was revealed what led to their separation.
Jason Momoa and Lisa Bonet’s split happened because they had different priorities. A source revealed that Momoa was very focused on his career and enjoyed the success it brought him. Meanwhile, Bonet wanted to stay in Los Angeles and focus on health and wellness. Their different lifestyles led them to drift apart.
Two years after they announced their separation, Bonet filed for divorce in January 2024. She mentioned “irreconcilable differences” and said they separated in October 2020. The court quickly approved their divorce. They had already agreed on the terms, including joint custody of their children and no child or spousal support.
After the divorce, Momoa briefly dated Mexican singer and actress Eiza Gonzalez. Their relationship ended in June 2022, partly because they were at different stages in their lives.
Since then, Momoa has started a new relationship. At a Comic Con event in May 2024, he confirmed he was dating someone but kept her identity private. He later shared photos from a trip to Japan with some friends, including a woman who might be his new partner.
Jason Momoa shared his gratitude on social media, thanking everyone who welcomed them into their homes and made new memories together. In the post, he went public with his new relationship with Puerto Rican actress Adria Arjona. Arjona, who is 12 years younger than Momoa, was featured in several photos, including one where she is smiling and sitting on his lap.
Their relationship has caught the attention of many fans, who are excited to follow their love story as they continue to share moments from their lives together.
My Late Wife’s Presumptuous Sister Took Her Dress Without Asking and Damaged It – Karma Swiftly Dealt With Her
Jack is furious when his sister-in-law shows up to a family event in his late wife, Della’s cherished dress. But the final blow comes when she “accidentally” ruins it right in front of him. Jack holds back his anger, but karma has its way of delivering justice in ways no one expects.
It’s been six months since I lost my wife, Della, and some days it feels like I’m drowning in memories. Today was one of those days until karma decided to show up fashionably late to the party.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me rewind a bit to last week.
It was supposed to be a happy day, the 45th wedding anniversary of Della and her sister Lina’s parents. Instead, it turned into a nightmare that had me wishing I’d stayed home nursing my grief with a bottle of whiskey.
I stood in the corner of the living room, nursing a drink and trying to blend into the wallpaper.
The chatter of family and friends washed over me, a dull roar that did nothing to drown out the ache in my chest. Every laugh, every clink of glasses was a reminder that Della should’ve been here, lighting up the room with her smile.
That’s when it happened. The moment that made my blood run cold and then boil in the span of a heartbeat.
Lina appeared at the top of the stairs, and my world tilted on its axis.
She was wearing Della’s engagement dress. The one I’d given her on the night I proposed, the one she’d treasured for years. It was a soft, flowing thing in a shade of blue that matched Della’s eyes perfectly.
Seeing it on Lina felt like a violation.
I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. My fingers tightened around my glass as Lina descended the stairs, a smug smile playing on her lips. She knew exactly what she was doing.
“Jack!” she called out, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. “Don’t you think this dress is just perfect for the occasion?”
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. What could I say that wouldn’t cause a scene? That wouldn’t play right into her hands?
Lina sauntered over, her eyes gleaming with malicious delight. “What’s wrong, Jack? Cat got your tongue?”
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “That’s Della’s dress,” I managed to growl.
She laughed, a sound like nails on a chalkboard. “Oh, come on. It’s not like she needs it anymore. And now,” she leaned in close, her breath hot on my ear, “she can’t say no to me.”
Something snapped inside me. I was about to unleash years of pent-up fury when Lina gasped dramatically.
“Oh no!” she cried out. “I’m so clumsy!”
Time seemed to slow as I watched a wave of red wine spread across the front of Della’s dress. Lina’s eyes met mine, filled with mock innocence and very real triumph.
“Oops,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I guess I ruined it. Such a shame.”
I don’t remember much of what happened next. Somehow, I made it through the rest of the party without committing murder. But as I drove home that evening, my knuckles white on the steering wheel, I knew something had changed.
Back in our — my — empty house, I paced the floor like a caged animal. Memories of Della flooded my mind, sharp and painful. Her laughter, her strength, the way she always stood up to Lina’s bullshit.
“God, I miss you, Del,” I whispered to the empty room. “You always knew how to handle her.”
I could almost hear Della’s voice in my head, calm and steady. “Don’t let her get to you, Jack. She’s not worth it.”
But it wasn’t just about me anymore.
It was about honoring Della’s memory, about not letting Lina trample all over the life we’d built together.
As I collapsed onto the couch, exhausted and heartsick, a strange calm settled over me. I wouldn’t seek revenge; that’s not what Della would’ve wanted. But I wouldn’t stand in karma’s way either.
Something told me the universe had taken notice of Lina’s behavior, and it was only a matter of time before the scales balanced out.
Little did I know how right I was.
A few days later, I was mindlessly scrolling through social media, trying to distract myself from the gnawing emptiness in my chest, when a post caught my eye. It was from Lina, and it was… dramatic, to say the least.
“My dear friends,” it read, accompanied by a selfie of Lina with tears streaking her mascara, “I was robbed yesterday! They took all my cocktail outfits and branded clothes. I’m devastated!”
I blinked and read it again.
A laugh bubbled up in my throat, unexpected and a little rusty from disuse. Before I could fully process what I was reading, my phone rang. Lina’s name flashed on the screen.
I answered, curiosity getting the better of me. “Hello?”
“You colossal jerk!” Lina’s shrill voice assaulted my ear. “I know it was you! How dare you?”
I held the phone away from my ear, her tirade continuing unabated. When she paused for breath, I jumped in. “Lina, what the hell are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Jack! My clothes, all my designer outfits, they’re gone! And I know you’re behind it!”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed. It was a real laugh, the kind I hadn’t experienced since Della died. “Lina, I hate to burst your bubble, but I had nothing to do with your clothes going missing.”
“Liar! Who else would do this? It’s payback for the dress, isn’t it?”
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“Lina, I’ve been home wallowing in my grief. I haven’t left the house in days. How exactly do you think I managed to orchestrate a theft of your wardrobe?”
She sputtered, clearly not expecting logic to enter the conversation. “But… but…”
“Look,” I said, a hint of amusement creeping into my voice, “I’m sorry you were robbed. That sucks. But it wasn’t me.”
“Then explain this!” she shrieked.
My phone pinged with an incoming message.
I pulled it away from my ear to look, and what I saw nearly made me drop it.
There, in living color, were photos of Lina’s missing clothes. But they weren’t in some thief’s lair or a pawn shop. No, they were being worn by homeless women on the street.
I saw a Gucci blazer draped over the shoulders of an elderly woman pushing a shopping cart. A Prada dress adorned a young mother cradling a baby.
I couldn’t contain myself. Laughter erupted from me, deep and genuine.
It felt foreign, almost painful, but God, it felt good.
“What’s so funny?” Lina demanded. “This isn’t a joke, Jack!”
“Oh, Lina,” I managed between chuckles, “trust me, karma works in mysterious ways.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? I swear, Jack, if I find out you had anything to do with this—”
“You’ll what?” I cut her off, suddenly tired of her threats. “Look, Lina, I didn’t take your clothes. Maybe the universe decided it was time for you to learn a lesson about taking things that don’t belong to you.”
She gasped, indignant. “How dare you! I’m calling the police!”
“Go ahead,” I said, surprising myself with how calm I felt. “I’m sure they’ll be very interested in your theory about your grieving brother-in-law masterminding a charitable redistribution of your wardrobe.”
I hung up before she could respond, feeling lighter than I had in months. As I set my phone down, a memory surfaced: Della, rolling her eyes after yet another confrontation with her sister.
“One of these days,” she’d said, “Lina’s going to push too far, and it’s going to bite her in the rear.”
I smiled, raising an imaginary glass to the ceiling. “You called it, babe,” I murmured. “You always did.”
I thought that was the end of it. A bit of karmic justice, a much-needed laugh, and maybe a lesson learned for Lina. But the universe, it seemed, wasn’t quite done.
The next morning, I opened my front door to grab the newspaper and nearly tripped over a plain white envelope on the welcome mat. No address, no stamp. Just my name scrawled across the front in unfamiliar handwriting.
Curious, I tore it open. Inside was a single sheet of paper with three words:
“Don’t thank me.”
I stared at the note, my mind racing. Someone in the family, someone I didn’t know, or at least didn’t suspect, had taken matters into their own hands. They’d done what I’d only dreamed of doing, exacting a revenge that was as poetic as it was just.
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